The Wisdom to Know the Difference
by AnthroQueen
Summary: If everything was different, would anything stay the same?
1. this is it, the apocalypse

**Good afternoon friends! Hopefully you're all doing well and hanging in there despite the fact that the show is a hot mess right now. This story is... different than the rest of mine. And I have a very, very strong feeling that you're all going to hate it and that's why it's taken me so long to post it. But with a gentle push from SpobyFicStalker, I am bestowing it upon all of you. Let me explain-**

**A few weeks ago, I was watching this show and wondering what in God's name these writers were thinking. And it's not just Spoby that's a hot mess- it's literally all of the characters and all their storylines. And I'm watching it and I'm like, "This is like watching my favorite characters in an alternate universe." But then my muse went crazy- what if these characters _were_ in an alternate universe? Thus, this story was born. It's twenty chapters of twenty alternate universes, some crazier than the others. They're all unrelated and do not influence one another. It's basically twenty one-shots but I'm linking them together to save space haha. This is the first one- I had to start off with a bang.**

**The chapter title comes from "Radioactive" by Imagine Dragons and the first AU we're finding ourselves in is the zombie apocalypse. Hey, go big or go home, right? Please tell me what you think, if you can. I honestly am expecting hate so it's okay if you throw it at me. Alright. I'm bowing out now. *ducks away from tomatoes* Love y'all. :)**

* * *

this is it, the apocalypse

A piercing scream awakens her from a mostly restless sleep. Spencer sits straight up and aimlessly feels around the dirt floor for her pistol, mentally cursing herself for falling asleep. She's the leader; she's in charge- she doesn't get to sleep. Disoriented, she rubs her eyes, slips the cool metal into her hands and then she's up before she can think twice. She doesn't hear anything after that, but she heads in the direction of the scream anyway, kicking herself for not bringing a candle. They have two flashlights left, but it's only a matter of time before they, too, run out of battery. And when they do… well. That's truly the end; batteries are a luxury they're no longer accustomed to, anymore.

Another scream echoes through the still air and Spencer realizes it's Hanna, her heart beating just a bit faster as that familiar pang of adrenaline bursts through her veins. Unwanted images of loss and anguish cloud her vision and she frets, pushes them away, and speeds up towards her friend. Hanna's lying beneath a ratty piece of flannel and thrashing in her sleep in a way that tells Spencer her sleep is just as unhealthy as her own. Spencer slips the pistol back onto her belt loop and kneels beside her friend, momentarily at ease that there is no harm done. She places a cool hand on Hanna's feverous, sweaty shoulder and attempts to shake her awake.

"Han," She calls out softly as to not wake the other sleeping residents. "Hanna, wake up. You're having a nightmare."

The blonde's eyes fly open and Spencer watches her get reacquainted with the awful world in which they now reside. "Are they back yet?"

"No," Spencer shakes her head. "But they probably stopped for the night. It isn't safe to travel after dark. You know that."

"He was dead," Hanna laments, tears filling her eyes. "One got him and I had to…"

Spencer looks away and Hanna immediately backpedals. "It was a dream."

"It was," Spencer agrees. "I'm sure they'll be back tomorrow."

She stands and begins to walk away when she hears Hanna whisper, "I'm scared."

It makes her freeze for just the slightest moment before she shakes her head and insists, "We don't get to be scared. Not anymore. We do what we have to do to survive and if we don't… We become one of them."

"Spence," Hanna struggles to sit up. "What if I'm already one of them?"

Her slender fingers come to grasp the metal of her gun once more. "What do you mean?"

Hanna runs a hand over the growing dome of her stomach. "I mean, this baby… What if it's dead? What if I give birth to a demon that tries to eat me alive?"

Spencer bites her lip. Anything's possible, now. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Right now we just have to get through today. Get some rest."

"No, I'm awake, now," Hanna stands, cracking her back. "I'll keep watch. You should sleep."

Spencer crosses the room to yank open the barn door. "I don't sleep anymore."

She can remember the very last time she got a full eight hours of sleep and that was long before the shit hit the fan. She almost misses her giant four-poster bed and that cozy down comforter that she'd lost herself in for years and years, but that's lifetimes away, now. Rosewood had been completely overrun after just days of the virus hitting, assuming that's what it is, and Spencer had gathered her friends, her boyfriend and anyone that had somehow managed to avoid it and gotten the hell out of town. They'd watched people die and come back, they'd watched houses and families get destroyed, and they'd watched, from afar, as the government lost control and dropped bombs from the sky, hoping to contain it, hoping to annihilate it, but panicking and succumbing anyway. The plan was to get to the coast, to hop a boat and sail overseas, to try and find a community far away from the madness where they could live out the rest of their days, however many they had left. That was then.

This is now. Their group of what once been roughly a hundred people has dwindled down to maybe thirty. The longer this drags on, the more they lose their minds; every twig snapping could be their demise, every hiss and snarl from afar could be the one that does them in. They're dirty; what little clothes they had brought with them had been lost in a raid on their camp a few weeks ago that left seven people dead and with no way of bathing combined with the hot, relentless sun and endless dusty roads, they're all strangers to their past selves. They're hungry; the last time they'd had a full meal had been before they'd run out of canned goods and that had been nearly a month ago. Their only hope now is to rely on whatever they can forage or hunt, praying these things are not infected. They're exhausted; physically, of course, because cars have become obsolete and they've all but walked the entire state of Pennsylvania by now, but mentally as well. There are only so many times you can watch a loved one die before it takes its toll on you. Especially when they come back.

Spencer and Hanna sit outside the barn in silence as the sun comes up on a brand new day. It's eerily quiet; no birds chirping, no lawn mowing, no children shrieking with laughter or cars honking they're going to be late for work. Spencer scans the perimeter over and over, on watch even when she's been relieved of her duty, while Hanna fidgets nervously with the hem of her t-shirt and doesn't look up. Conversation has been scarce lately and Spencer can't pretend she doesn't know why. She shakes her head of these thoughts just as a faint growling comes from the tree line. A walker emerges from the patch of trees, stumbling over its clumsy feet, flesh hanging from its bare ribs and teeth protruding from its jowls. Hanna notices, too, and sits up a little straighter as it comes closer.

"Do you want to get it or should I?"

"I see him," Spencer says, reaching for her knife as Hanna cocks her gun. "Han, don't. There's only one. I don't want the noise to attract others."

It becomes irrelevant moments later when an arrow slices through the back of its skull and the walker falls to the ground, immobile. Spencer and Hanna freeze but relax the moment they see Caleb step forward, yank the arrow from its brain and wipe the blood off on a patch of grass beside them. Four others follow him and Spencer breathes a little easier, knowing not only that their gang is back again, but that they hadn't lost anyone, this time. She scans each of their faces and the memory comes back to her again. Once again, she wishes it away. Hopping down off her perch, she follows Hanna towards them and watches as the blonde throws her arms around Caleb, gripping him almost vice-like. Spencer instead approaches Emily, who nods in greeting and presents her with a grocery basket of food.

"It isn't much," Emily says. "But it's all we could find."

"It's enough for today," Spencer replies. "Did you find any water?"

"Nothing," Emily negates. "But there's a ravine about ten miles back and we didn't know what was past that."

"Guess we're going to have to find out." Spencer says. "On the move by nine."

"Can't we rest just a day?" Emily asks. "Please. That's all I need."

"No. We really shouldn't." Spencer frowns. "We have to keep moving if we all want to survive."

There's no time for niceties, not anymore, but then again, Spencer Hastings had never been a dreamer. Once upon a time, she'd been ambitious and driven and cunning and the only thing that mattered to her was the emotional and physical wellbeing of her friends. Her family she could mostly do without and maybe she should feel guilty about that, especially now that they're long gone. But she doesn't. In the end, they hadn't heeded her warning and their pride got the best of them and thus, she can't really feel sorry for them, anyway. Not much of her character has changed; she still wants the best for everyone around her and so if keeping alert and remaining on the move is what she has to do, then that's what they'll do. She lets everyone know they'll be moving shortly and returns to her corner of the barn to throw some of her belongings into a knapsack.

In the opposite corner are two girls who used to be in her math class and Spencer doesn't remember much of them, except that one had bested her in AP Calc the year prior. It seems so trivial, now. The brunette grumbles, "I don't know what she thinks she's looking for. It's not like anywhere is safe."

The one with the glasses agrees. "It's so stupid. This place was quiet and out of the way. We barely saw any walkers. It would be stupid to move."

Aria's coming closer now, slinging a shotgun over her back, and asks Spencer, "Ready?"

She nods and tosses a sideways glance at the two girls, who are still talking shit under their breaths. "Let's head east."

Before they can, Aria frowns and approaches the girls. "Would you two care to share with the class?"

Brunette's eyes widen and she shakes her head, while Glasses frowns. "No. We're good."

"Good. You better be," Aria growls, turning her attention on the rest of the room. "This goes for everybody. Every single one of you. You got a problem with the way Spencer runs things?"

A chorus of disagreement fills the room and Aria nods. "That's what I thought. I don't know many people who would have done what Spencer's done for us all these months. She stepped up when we were all trying to make sense of this new world we live in. She took control when so many of us were losing the very last bit of reality we had. She kept us fed, kept us safe, kept us _alive_-"

Glasses snorts. "Yeah. Not _all_ of us."

Spencer's eyes snap to hers. Glasses seems to realize what she's said and immediately blurts out, "Oh my god. I can't believe I said that. I'm sorry. I didn't… I'm sorry!"

Coldly, Spencer asks, "You think you can do better? Start your own group. I'm not asking you to stay here. You want to go? Go."

She grabs her bag, crosses towards the door, and calls, "For those of you who'd like to stay, we're leaving _now_."

Spencer takes the lead and doesn't look back to see who follows. There are two walkers in her path and she takes them both, head to head. She wipes the bloody knife on her jeans and steps over the rotting corpses, unfazed. The first time she'd ever killed a walker had been the most terrifying experience of her young life, but there had been so many since then, she can barely remember the time when it disgusted her. In fact, it's hard to picture her life before this at all; there was once a time when the air didn't smell like decomposing flesh and when the dead stayed dead and didn't come walking and when she was able to sleep soundly without the sound of hissing in the air or the fear of falling asleep and never waking up. Every now and then, she gets flashes of what her life was and she has to will it away, because she'll never have it again. Even on the off chance that they find a secure place, with food and water, her life will never be the same.

Fifteen miles down, they find an abandoned minivan attached to an RV and Caleb jogs ahead, Mike on his tail, to see if they still run. Door handle in hand, Caleb looks skyward and says, "I've never asked you for anything. _Please_ do this for us."

He yanks the door open and instead is met with the slender, grabbing arms of a walker behind the wheel. She snarls and reaches for him as Hanna shrieks, "Caleb! Be careful!"

A shot rings into the afternoon heat and blood splatters onto the wheel and roof of the car. The arms fall limply against the seat and Caleb reaches in and pulls out the body. "Dude, that is _so_ not what I meant."

"Mike!" Spencer exclaims, her head swiveling in all directions. "Why would you do that? They're all going to swarm us now!"

Mike looks bewildered and shares a look with his sister before saying, "I saved Caleb's life."

"And you could've done so with a knife!" Spencer insists. "I'm going to check the perimeter. You see if the cars run and call me if you get them to start."

She takes off into the tree line and Mike sighs. "Is she serious? That thing was going to eat him."

Aria frowns. "It's fine. She's right."

"Is she?" Mike shakes his head. "She's been such a hard ass since-"

"Stop," Aria halts him. "Let her be."

"Hallelujah!" Caleb suddenly shouts over the purr of the engine. "There is a God!"

"I can't say I agree," Ezra calls out. "Considering this is how bad things are."

"Now if this one runs," Caleb announces, hurrying to the RV. "That must mean…"

A second hum of an engine is heard and everyone breaks into applause. Caleb's full on grinning. "This is amazing. The tanks aren't full, but we'll make it a hundred miles or so without walking."

Hanna beams and kisses him. "You did it! It's going to be tight, but it's something!"

Spencer returns moments later, notes the excitement and asks, "They work?"

"They work," Caleb smiles. "We can fit seven in the van and everyone else is going to have to fit in the RV. It'll be a little cramped but-"

"Great," Spencer nods. "Let's get going. We can't drive at night- the light will attract them."

"Where _are_ we going?" Emily calls out.

Spencer gets behind the wheel of the van without asking who wants to drive. "Anywhere but here."

Hanna gets in the passenger seat, Caleb following behind her. She turns to assure her best friend, "I trust you, Spence."

Spencer frowns. "At least someone does."

* * *

She doesn't go on runs anymore. She used to love doing them because it was something to break up the monotony and darting in and out of structures, keeping away from walkers, and running as fast as she could reminded her of her childhood, chasing and being chased by her older sister. But she doesn't go on runs anymore. Caleb's in charge of them and has been since the start and he will tell her over and over that she's better suited to be back at camp because she's their leader and what if something goes wrong? He says it so genuinely and so kindly, Spencer almost believes it. Almost. But she knows the truth. She doesn't go on runs anymore because of what happened last time.

They'd found a supermarket a few miles up the road from the clearing in the woods they were making camp in. They'd just run short on water and food and Caleb arranged a group- he, Emily, Spencer, two guys from Rosewood, and Toby. Toby and Spencer had hung back from the rest of the group just a bit as the supermarket came into view. "I don't know why he always asks me to come on these."

Spencer had grinned. "Because you're super agile and surprisingly fast."

"Surprisingly?" Toby had poked her. "I'm sorry, weren't we running buddies before all this?"

"And wasn't I faster than you?" Spencer teased right back.

"Yeah, yeah," He rolled his eyes, slinging an arm around her. "I'm scoping out the perimeter?"

"As usual," Spencer nodded. "And once we've got the okay, we'll all be in and out of there in no time."

"As usual," Toby mimicked. "And you'll be careful?"

"Of course," She agreed. "And you will too?"

"I wouldn't be anything but."

Toby gave them the okay moments later and the six of them- Toby, Spencer, Caleb, Emily, and two guys they'd dragged from Rosewood- entered the market with their guns drawn. They were met with silence. Abandoned, dusty shopping carts and baskets littered the ground and there was a faint dripping sound from the leaky ceiling, but all else was quiet. They split up, three and three, and took off in opposite directions, gathering all the food they could find regardless of whether or not it was healthy or tasty. When they rarely had options to begin with, they didn't have time to be choosy. Just as they were about to leave, there was a bang from the front door and they noticed a few walkers just grazing their exit.

"That's the way we came in," Emily shrieked, arms full of cases of water.

"We can go out the back," Spencer suggested. "We can't waste the ammo to take them out."

"Well, we better move fast," Toby agreed. "Come on."

They raced through the aisles of the store, passing abandoned offices and yanking open the door to the stock room. Just as the door opened, a walker stumbled out and fell onto Emily, who screamed in surprise and shoved it off her just in time. There must have been dozens of them in the back, more than they'd seen up front, and they were truly trapped, now. The only way out would be to fight their way through and risk sacrificing most of their food and maybe even their lives. Spencer shot a look at Toby, who nodded a bit apprehensively and the two unsheathed their guns and began firing into the horde. Gunfire exploded into the room and blood and brains and flesh spattered against the walls, the desks and their only exit door. A walker leaned forward, greying teeth bared and ready to bite, but Spencer got him right between the eyes and when she was able, she pushed open the door and fell outside.

One by one, her friends followed suit. Caleb first, then one of the guys from Rosewood, then Emily. Emily was out of breath when she blurted, "We lost Oliver. He panicked. They're eating him alive."

Spencer didn't care. "Where's Toby?"

Emily shook her head, eyes wide. "He was there and then… Then he wasn't."

Spencer scrambled towards the door, but it swung open one last time and out stumbled her perfect, wonderful Toby. She sighed in relief, grinned, ran to embrace him… and then paused. Her arms fell from his neck and one was covered in his blood. Her eyes met his and she felt her world completely stop the moment she saw the look of sheer complacency in his eyes. He knew. He knew as well as she did so why wasn't he freaking out just like her? In her rage and sheer terror, she tore one of the sleeves off her shirt and fashioned it into a bandage. There was a gaping, oozing, bleeding hole where her favorite spot used to be, right in that spot where his neck met his shoulder, right where she'd rest her head at night and fall asleep to the sound of his even, steady breathing. It was gone and in mere hours, he would be, too.

"Toby…" Spencer croaked. It was all she could make out.

Beads of sweat were forming on his brow and he softly shook his head. "I tried. I wasn't as fast, this time."

"Dude, your shoulder," Caleb hissed. "Oh shit."

"What happened?" Emily wondered, her eyes as wide as saucers.

"I was in hand to hand with this walker," Toby explained. "He almost got me. I tried to shoot but I ran out of ammo and… I got desperate. I rammed his head into a wall. But his buddy… He was behind me. He'd gotten me before I even knew he was there. There was no stopping it."

Spencer looked as though she was going to combust. "No… No, see, it's actually not even that bad. We can cover it and… Maybe it won't spread. We'll get some antibiotics in you… We've got some at the camp. It's going to be okay. It's… It's not going to… _You're _not going to-"

"Spence," He silenced her. "It's only a matter of time."

She stared at him and jumped into action. "Okay, well then, let's get you back to the camp. Let's get back and we'll go from there. It'll be okay. You're going to be okay."

Their camp was miles away and with every step, Toby grew weaker and weaker. Spencer buckled under his weight and moments later, Caleb slipped his other arm around his shoulders wordlessly and helped her out. Her heart felt as though it was going to burst through her chest but she refused to acknowledge the inevitable. Toby wasn't going to die. He wasn't. He couldn't. She remained headstrong and steadfast and focused upon returning to the camp. But just miles from their locale, Toby collapsed to the ground, his body radiating heat, and slowly shook his head. He could not go on. Spencer glanced from him to the remaining members of the group and made her decision.

"Okay, we'll just rest a minute," She sat beside him, pulling him all the way against her. She reached into her bag, poured some water onto a spare cloth and began to dab away the sweat along his forehead and jawline. "And then… We'll keep going."

Toby painfully shook his head. "This is the end of the road for me."

"I'll carry him," Caleb insisted. "We'll get you back, man."

"I'll help," The guy from Rosewood nodded. To this day, Spencer cannot seem to remember his name.

It's in agony that they brought Toby back, but eventually, they made it their camp and settled him onto a sleeping bag in the tent he shared with Spencer. Toby nodded his thanks and Caleb and Emily ducked out to give the two privacy in what would inevitably be their final moments together. Silence filled the tent and for the first time, Spencer glanced at her boyfriend and realized that tomorrow and the day after and the one after that, he would no longer be around to share it with her. A painful tug nearly stopped her heart and she knelt beside him, cradling his head in her lap and smoothing his hair, trying to make him as comfortable as she possibly could. Naïveté went by the wayside and Spencer did all she could to accept the fact that she was going to lose him.

She felt him inhale and he spoke so softly it was almost inaudible. "I love you."

"No," She shook her head. "No, I'm not ready for you to go yet. Please don't say goodbye to me."

"But I do," Toby insisted. "I love you. I love you so much. I never thought I could love anyone in the world as much as I love you."

She felt tears sting the backs of her eyes but she willed them away, wanting to see his face as clearly as she could. "Please don't leave me."

"I don't want to," He groaned. "But you don't need me. You're the strongest woman I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. And if anyone is going to beat this world, it's going to be Spencer Hastings. You know it and I know it."

"I don't want to beat this world if you can't come with me," She said. "It's not my world without you in it. It wasn't supposed to end this way."

"I know," He replied. "I never thought… I'd become one of those things."

She shook her head so fast she saw stars. "I'm not letting you become one. I'll end it before that happens."

"I can't let you do that," Toby disagreed. "I don't _want_ you to do that."

"I don't want you to become one!" Spencer shrieked. "I won't let that happen."

"Then have someone else do it," Toby pleaded. "Please. Anyone but you."

"I might not have a choice," Spencer told him. "I'm not leaving you."

Despite this, despite everything, Toby smiled. "You're so damn stubborn, Spence. Why do you always have to be like that?"

She smiled too. "To put up with you."

His eyes closed blissfully. "You're beautiful. You're powerful. And you're brave. Don't you forget that."

He inhaled slowly, exhaled much more slowly and then was still. Spencer instantly panicked. "Toby? Toby, no, please, no. No. Please! Toby!"

She pressed her ear to his heart and was met with a terrible silence that nearly ended her. Clutching his body to hers, she kissed his forehead, his temple, his cheek, and whispered, "I love you. I love you so much. I don't know how I'm ever going to make it without you."

Gently, ever so gently, she laid him down and ran her fingers one last time upon his perfect face, his soft skin, his chiseled torso. "You were all I ever needed… All I ever _wanted_. You're my everything."

Pulling their blanket up and over his body, Spencer gulped past the lump in her throat and shakily grasped the knife in her back pocket. "I'm going to miss you more than you'll ever know. Just know that… I love you so much. And that's why I have to do this."

She unsheathed the knife and plunged it deep into his skull.

* * *

"Hey look," Emily points out about a half hour into their drive. "There's someone there."

Spencer squints and just there, about fifty feet ahead of them, is a man walking along the road, looking beaten and worn down. She grips the steering wheel tighter and says nothing. Emily adds, "We should stop and see if he needs help. He's alone."

"Or so he wants us to think," Spencer deadpans. She drives on.

The man hears the wheels churning the dirt road, stops and turns around. He begins to wave his arms wildly and shout for them to stop. Emily asks, "Are you going to stop?"

"No," Spencer states and Emily looks at her in surprise.

"What? Why?" She wonders. "We should help him!"

"Why? What has he done for us? What has anyone on the street ever done for us?" Spencer shoots back. "Remember Norman?"

Emily bites her lip. Norman had been a man they'd found weeks earlier who'd stolen their food and half of their guns. He hadn't been seen since. "That was different."

"You don't know that."

"And neither do you!"

"I'm not willing to take the chance," Spencer says. They drive past the man who cries out and falls to his knees.

Emily looks stricken. "He's going to get eaten."

"Better him than us."

Emily says nothing the rest of the drive. They run out of gas right outside Lancaster and set up camp for the night. They forage for food in the rundown houses nearby and build a fire to cook their limited means on. Dinner is eaten in silence and the air is deathly still; Spencer of course says she'll take first watch when everyone is ready to turn in for bed. Caleb decides he'll sit up with her too and tries desperately to get her talk about any and everything, but she's not interested. She'll go on until she cannot anymore, but she's not truly living. Her reason to had left her and so she'll fight because he told her to fight; she'll carry on for her friends. But she doesn't give a damn about anything else.

The air is still much too quiet when morning dawns and Spencer has the disquieting feeling that something isn't quite right. And she's proven right moments later when not one, not two, but ten and maybe more walkers come traipsing into their camp. She shouts to everyone to wake up, to move, to arm themselves, to _get out_ and unloads bullet after bullet into their skulls. Caleb races to Hanna, and the two of them join hands in mortal combat. Mike beats one to death with a baseball bat and Ezra's fighting three at once. Spencer can hear the pained cries and she knows she's losing people this morning. She knows this is a losing battle and soon, everyone she knows and loves will be gone.

A snarling, hissing sound comes from behind her and Spencer turns, gun ready, and fires… but she's out of ammunition. It's a particularly nasty one- guts spilling from open ribs, dangling flesh hanging from its face, deep, swollen eye sockets with blood red eyes, and teeth sharp and ready to tear into her own skin. Spencer walks backwards slowly, enticing it even further, and inches towards her bag to reload. But a corpse from beneath her is lying in her path and she trips and falls backwards just as her walker falls on top of her. Spencer's eyes widen and she fights with the walker for just a moment before realizing this could be it. This could be her end. If she lets this thing devour her, it would be over and she could be with Toby again. She closes her eyes and lets go.

_You're the strongest woman I've ever had the pleasure of knowing_.

Her eyes fly open again as the walker leans closer, going for her neck. She shoves it off of her, backwards and onto its behind. It's relentless and crawls forward again.

_You're beautiful. You're powerful. And you're brave. Don't forget that_.

She aims a swift kick right into its face and again it stumbles backwards. She could give up, right here, right now. She could let someone else be leader for a change. She could die.

_If anyone is going to beat this world, it's going to be Spencer Hastings._

Or, she could fight. She could go on. She could do all she could do and die with dignity, maybe weeks and weeks from now or maybe tomorrow. She doesn't know. But she does know that Toby wouldn't want this. Toby would want her to fight, because that's all she's ever done and why should now be any different just because he isn't there to fight with her? She reaches into her pocket, slips the knife into her hand and crawls on top of her attacker. Right between the eyes she ends his growling and then stands, runs to her knapsack, reloads her gun and releases the trigger. She shoots endlessly until there's nothing left to shoot. And after it's over, there is silence. Except, there isn't, not really. Because there's a harsh shrieking and sobbing from a few feet away and her best friend is sobbing violently over her lover.

It's déjà vu and it's so unwelcome Spencer can barely see straight. Aria is covered in blood that isn't hers and Ezra is lying so deathly still beneath her. Everyone- well, everyone that's left- flocks to them and Aria sobs, "He's gone. There was a walker and I couldn't do it and he… He… He's gone!"

He's pale as a sheet and Spencer knows there isn't much time before he reanimates. She kneels beside her friend and says calmly, "I know what you're feeling right now. And I know how much it hurts. But you need to step aside."

"What? Why?" Aria wails. "Why?"

Spencer eyes her gun and Aria shakes her head unbelievably fast. "No. No, you can't. You can't!"

"If I don't, he'll come back," Spencer says. "And you don't want to see that. You don't want that."

"I can't leave him," Aria insists. "I won't."

"Step back, Aria."

"No."

"Step _back_, Aria!"

"No!"

Suddenly, Ezra's eyes fly open, but they aren't the normal blue everyone's used to. He sits awkwardly, snarls, and attaches himself to Aria. It happens before anyone can blink and Aria's bloodcurdling scream fills the early morning air as everyone around them is sprayed with arterial blood. Emily covers her eyes and shrieks, "Someone do something!"

Two shots are fired, one from Spencer's gun and one from Caleb's. No one knows who shot first or who shot whom, but both Aria and Ezra are unmoving on the ground before them. Mike falls to the ground in hysterical sobs and Emily sinks beside him, her arms around him, her own tears falling freely. Hanna's taking deep, shaky breaths and Caleb places an unsteady hand on her back. Spencer has to get out of here. She turns from the scene and runs, just runs blindly, faster than she'd ever run in her life. She pushes through weeds and leaves and trees and finally, when she can't run anymore, she collapses against a boulder and breathes heavily as she tries and fails to process what just happened.

It's then that it all hits her. Every emotion since the day she lost Toby pushes past her walls of denial and bursts to the surface. She breaks down in tears and sobs loudly, her chest heaving, her body unable to catch her breath. She wishes she had allowed the walker to eat her alive, she wishes she had convinced Aria to move away, and she wishes more than anything that they had never gone on that run that day. She wishes she were dead because anything is a better alternative than this. Toby's dead and wherever he is now, he's safe and away from the pain and grief this sorrowful life is bestowing upon them. She wishes he were here with her now, to hold her and cry with her and tell her everything was going to be okay even if it wasn't, even if she knows better. She cries and cries and cries until she is empty inside and only then does she feel restored.

She had nothing when she started. She has nothing now.


	2. i've traveled all this way for something

**Good morning everyone! I am so shocked and so humbled by all your nice words on the first chapter that I honestly don't even know what to say. Maybe I was crazy to think you guys were going to hate this, but it's so random, so out of the blue, that I guess I just expected it lol. But thank you for not hating it; I mean I was going to keep posting either way, but it's nice to generate positive feedback. You guys are the best, seriously.**

**So, what did everyone think of last night's episode? Personally, I thought it was pretty boring and that Caleb was the best part lol. The Spoby was... eh. The scene was nice and the kiss was hot, but the whole time I was waiting for a scene after their initial reunion where they sat down and finally had a conversation and once again, I was unsatisfied. I guess I should've expected it; they've never talked about 3B or 4B either. So as happy as I am that they're back on solid ground with one another- at least, I think they are?- it still wasn't enough for me. It probably never will be.**

**Regardless, here's chapter two. The chapter title comes from "On Top of the World" by Imagine Dragons and the AU we find ourselves in now is Spencer and Toby meeting as camp counselors. It's much more upbeat than the last one, but hopefully it won't be a sophomore slump. Enjoy, maybe?**

* * *

i've traveled all this way for something

Day one is orientation, so maybe it isn't really day one; it's pre-day one and either way, Spencer is a bundle of nerves. She isn't good in social situations; she always comes on too strong, so she'll try to hang back. But then what if she comes off as antisocial? God, if she's this worried about meeting her fellow counselors, how is she going to handle the kids? She's never really been great with kids. The reason she took this job is because she used to come to this camp when she was between the ages of eight and twelve and she loved every second of it. Also, because it's sure to be an awesome, résumé-building experience. But she hadn't mentioned that when they interviewed her. That just sounds pretentious.

They gather in the mess hall and the camp director hands out their t-shirts, their whistles, their visors and a list of the campers in their cabins. Spencer looks hers over and notes she has the nine-year-olds. She grins; nine is a good age. It's just old enough to be somewhat self-sufficient, yet not too old that they won't enjoy some of the more childish things this camp has to offer. Other than that, she keeps to herself mostly. The director gives them a stern talking to about camp safety and quiet hours and when they should enforce lights out. He thanks them for being here and passionately explains all the reasons why Camp Winter Lake is simply the best of the best.

Spencer can't help but notice a boy about her age is standing at the other end of the room, reading over his list of things to remember and not paying attention to the camp director. When they break for introductions and snacks, everyone falls into easy conversation with one another and yet, he still holds back. Spencer smiles to herself, wondering if this boy feels the very same way she does, and heads towards him. He glances up as she approaches and smiles politely, but something about him tells her she's only made him apprehensive. She smiles too and for a moment, they stand there in awkward silence, unsure of what to say.

"Hi," She finally says. "I'm Spencer Hastings. Is this your first year of camp?"

"Toby Cavanaugh," He replies. "And no, I've been coming since I was eight. But it is my first year as counselor, so, we'll see how that goes."

"Oh my god, so have I!" Spencer exclaims. "I used to love it so much, I figured it'd be a great place to work. Of course, I probably don't have to explain that to you, right? I'm sure that's why you're here."

"Not exactly," Toby disagrees. "I hated it. But I didn't have a choice, you know? Family business, and all that."

She appears confused. "What do you mean?"

Toby eyes her. "My Dad's the camp director…?"

"Right! Cavanaugh!" Spencer shakes her head, feeling incredibly dense. "I should've put two and two together."

"It's fine; nobody does," Toby shrugs. "Least of all him."

She lets this pass. There isn't much to say in response. Instead she asks, "So what age group did you get? I've got nine-year-old girls."

"I've got nine-year-old boys," Toby tells her. "Looks like we'll be seeing a lot of each other."

She grins. "I guess we will."

The moment passes and she catches herself staring just a bit too long. She glances away and picks at the hem of her t-shirt for a moment before asking, "I guess we should go get snacks and mingle with the rest of the staff, huh?"

"We could," Toby says. "Or we could go for a walk and let _them_ mingle."

For some reason, this sounds much more pleasant. She smiles and nods. "Okay."

He folds his informational flyer in fours and shoves it into his pocket before grasping the door handle behind him and holding it open for her. She chances a glance at her laughing, shrieking, conversing counterparts and then at her boss, none of whom seem to have noticed them, and follows suit. The Pennsylvania sunshine welcomes them back like old friends and the soft dew upon the recently mown grass is still fresh even though it's nearing noon. They don't say anything at first, content just to be away from the oppressively awkward social situation back at the mess hall. Birds chirp in trees above them and the air smells like fresh pine needles and this is Spencer's sanctuary. This is why she begged her parents to go back every year, even long after she grew out of it. This is heaven.

"Okay, if you don't mind me asking," She breaks the silence. "How can you _possibly_ hate it here? I made some of the best friends I've ever had here at camp and I got a week filled with outdoor activities that I loved."

"I wasn't a real outdoorsy kid," Toby shrugs. "I'm not athletic in the slightest. I preferred to be at home with books or my drawings. Plus- you're going to laugh, but I was really close to my Mom. I hated being away from her that long, even though it was just a week."

Spencer shakes her head. "I'm not going to laugh. That's really sweet."

"She always told me she'd come get me if I was really miserable," Toby elaborates. "I don't think my dad would ever let her. Didn't stop me from trying, though. I called her every day."

She smiles. "I bet that's something you two still joke about."

Toby smiles, too, but his is a bit sadder around the edges. "I'm sure it would be, if she were still here. She passed away a few years ago."

"Oh god," Spencer laments. She has the strong urge to take his hand, but she resists. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not so bad anymore," Toby tells her. "My Dad and I manage."

She nods quietly and he must sense the somber tone, for he changes the subject almost instantly. "So, what makes you love this place so much? Aside from the freezing lake water and the crappy food?"

"The water's not that cold once you get used to it," She chuckles. "But I don't know, I just… My older sister and I were always super competitive growing up and we always tried to best each other, you know? And my parents encouraged it, but my sister… She always came out on top. And they never understood why I couldn't… measure up?"

"Ah," Toby seems to understand. "The 'why can't you be like your sister?' complex."

"Exactly," Spencer nods. "If I got second, Melissa would get first. If I got an A, she'd get an A+. If the teacher liked my paper or artwork or whatever, Melissa's would get an award and be on the front page of the newspaper. And I got sick of it over and over again; of my parents, of my sister, of always coming in last, always coming up short. And so this place… This was like my escape. I got a whole week away from those people where I wasn't judged against anyone. I could just… _be_, you know? And I always cried when I had to go home, because a week was never long enough to recharge and mentally prepare myself for what was waiting for me at home."

"Well, I can see why you'd want to stay here forever," Toby says, sympathy lacing his tone. "I'm sorry. That must've been really hard."

Spencer shakes her head. "It's better now that Melissa's out of the house. But still. I practically jumped at the chance to come back here again."

"You know what they could've done?" Toby asks after a moment of silence. "This camp's come so far since we were kids, and yet they still don't have bathrooms inside the cabins."

Spencer chuckles. "That's the _worst_. Because you can't go anywhere without a counselor and when you have to go in the middle of the night, you have to wake them up and- oh god. That's going to be our lives."

"You bet it is," He grins. "Not getting cold feet, are you?"

Spencer shakes her head, beaming. "Not a chance."

* * *

On the real day one, Toby wakes with the sunrise after pleasant dreams and dresses in his khaki shorts and evergreen camp t-shirt, the word 'Counselor' in white, block lettering across his back. He slips his whistle around his neck and wonders if there will ever be a time when he'll actually use it. He doesn't plan on being authoritarian and wonders if the counselor-in-training he's been assigned actually will be; it isn't like their cabin won't have rules, but he does want to be these boys' friend. He eats breakfast in the mess hall with several of the other counselors dressed just like him and when Spencer enters the room he smiles and waves her over. He likes her; she's funny, smart and can hold a conversation remarkably well, something he always felt that he wasn't very good at. They chat eagerly about the campers arriving before going their separate ways for the morning.

Less than an hour later, three big yellow school buses come chugging up to the camp and eager young campers pile out, clutching duffel bags, backpacks and rolled sleeping bags under their arms. Toby's father welcomes all of them before giving them the safety spiel, the things they need to know spiel, and the listen-to-your-counselor-at-all-times spiel. Toby's heard it all before and he's never, ever seen his father send someone home on bad behavior. When he's through, he begins to sort the children into their different cabins as though this were Hogwarts and at the end of it all, Toby and his CIT Travis are left with ten anxious nine-year-old boys, most of them returning campers from the year prior.

"Hi guys. Welcome to Camp Winter Lake," Toby addresses them. "My name is Toby and I'm going to be your counselor this whole week. This is Travis, he'll be your Counselor in Training, and the two of us will be in charge so any questions you might have or any problems, you can always come to us."

"Day or night," Travis puts in. "We'll be sharing a cabin."

"Speaking of our cabin, we're going to head there now. Everyone got their stuff?" Toby asks and ten heads nod in unison. "Awesome. Let's head out."

They begin the trek towards the cabins' pathway. It splits in two at the very end and Toby explains, "For those of you new this year, the cabins are split- half are for the girls and half for the boys. The girls' cabins are named after birds and the boys' cabins are named after forest animals. We'll be in the Porcupine cabin this week and just in case you were wondering, you are allowed in the girls' cabins, but not after dark. Does anybody have any questions?"

They've reached their cabin now and Toby holds open the door as the boys pile in. "No questions? Okay. Pick a bunk buddy and a bed and get set up."

When all is said and done, the boys glance up at Toby, wide-eyed and eager with anticipation, as they await what they'll be doing next. "Alright guys, who's ready to head to the field and play some games?"

They all cheer with excitement and perhaps it's just the thrill of being here, away from their families, but Toby really hadn't thought that corn hole and a giant parachute in a massive grassy field would warrant that much enthusiasm. When they reach the field, Toby notes that Spencer and her girls had beaten them there and he smiles inwardly. She's nothing if not punctual. He unleashes the boys to go play and walks over to her, waving in greeting. Somehow, she already looks like a ball of stress. He wonders, "You okay?"

"Nine-year-old girls are already hormonal," Spencer says. "Why didn't anyone tell me that?"

"Really?" Toby's eyebrows rise. "My boys are so chill."

"Seriously. I have two girls, Brooke and Lydia, who I'm pretty sure viciously hate each other," Spencer says. "Then, I had this one little girl, Hannah, tell me that Alexa is the meanest girl in the whole school. How can you even be that mean in fourth grade?"

"I don't know," Toby chuckles. "I'm sorry. You might be in for a rough week."

"What? No." Spencer shakes her head. "They're not ruining this place for me or for each other. I'm going to whip them into shape. You'll see."

Toby grins. "I'm eager to."

* * *

Day two comes around and the girls in Spencer's cabin are still at each other's throats. On the walk back from lunch, her CIT Natalie is arguing with two of them in an effort to get them to stop arguing with one another. Spencer's leading the group up front and her tensions are growing higher and higher with every step. She's in charge of these girls, every single one of them, and it's only the second day of camp. She needs to get control of their raging emotions now before it tears them all apart. When they reach their cabin, Spencer comes to a dead stop and whirls around, looking each of them in the eye and when they see how fiercely irritated she looks, they're immediately silent. Even Natalie.

"Look," Spencer begins. "We need to have a talk. But we're not going to do it outside because I don't want to disturb the other cabins. We're going to go in and sit down and you're all going to listen to me."

She yanks the door open with such force, it almost flies off its hinges. The girls file in and sit, Indian style, on the floor before her. Spencer shuts the screen door and takes a deep, calming breath. "Today's our swim test. We're going down to the lake to see which swimming category you'll be placed in and then we get to swim with the boys. Are you excited?"

The girls nod, grinning, and Spencer then says, "Well, we're not going to go."

"What?" Brooke shrieks. "Why?"

"Because you guys aren't treating each other with respect," Spencer states. "I know that this is one of the things they teach you in school- treat others the way you want to be treated."

"But we're not in school," Alexa crosses her arms. "It's summer now."

"Guess what?" Spencer addresses her. "That's not a lesson just for school. That's for life. If you go around doing what you want no matter how it makes other people feel, you're going to end up in way more trouble than you are right now."

A timid girl named Jenna asks, lip quivering, "We're in trouble?"

"Yes. Every single one of you." Spencer confirms. "So I don't think we're going to go swimming today. If you want to keep arguing and being mean to each other and saying nasty things, be my guest. But you're not going to get to do what you want. Camp activities are a privilege, not a right. If you continue to act this way, we'll stay right here, in our cabin, this whole week."

The girls' eyes are wide and Natalie shrugs and says, "Spencer's right, girls. I just feel sorry for them, you know, Spence? They're not going to get to do that awesome thing on Saturday."

"Well, that's disappointing, but what can you do?" Spencer shrugs.

Lydia wonders, "What awesome thing?"

"Oh, are you interested?" Spencer asks. "Do you want to know what we have planned for you on your last day?"

The girls nod rapidly. Spencer shakes her head. "It's not that simple. I want you to apologize to each other. I want you to _mean _it. I want you to promise each other and me and yourselves that you'll never act this way again. When you go home this weekend, you don't have to be friends anymore. But this week, you are. We're all in this together. We need to work together… to beat the boys."

"Ooh," Avery squeals. "Beat the boys at what?"

"You'll see soon enough," Spencer grins. "But it's going to be fun. And we can't win if we're not all in this. So do you think you can do it?"

A chorus of agreement is heard and Spencer smiles. "Good. I don't want to hear another single negative thing, you got that? The next person who argues or says something mean or talks behind someone else's back is going to be the person I send home."

The girls are quiet in their acceptance and Spencer then says, "Go put your bathing suits on and grab your towels. The boys can't have all the fun."

Shrieking and squeals of excitement accompany their dressing and Spencer slips out of her counselor wear and into her bathing suit as well. They walk down to the docks where the boys are already in the water, splashing, thrashing and hollering. Spencer gives the girls the okay and comes to stand by Toby, who looks at her as though she's committed a serious crime. "You're late."

"Yeah," Spencer acknowledges. "The girls and I had to have a little talk."

Toby eyes her. "About what?"

"None of your business," She smiles and when he prods her further she adds, "If you must know, we were strategizing. My Blue Herons are going to kick your Porcupine asses on Saturday."

"Oh, is that so?" Toby asks. "Well I don't see how that's possible since none of your girls get along. My boys and I? We're rock solid. We move as a team, we work as a team. And I think it'll actually be the Porcupines victorious while the Blue Herons are watching from the sidelines."

"Well, I guess we'll have to wait and see," Spencer laughs. "But just so you know, all that stuff I told you about my sister and I being competitive? That wasn't a lie. I play to win."

"Oh, I don't doubt it," Toby shakes his head. "But so do I. You've met your match, Spencer Hastings."

Spencer bites her lip. "You have no idea, Toby Cavanaugh."

* * *

Day three has hiking in the cards for both groups so bright and early, Toby awakens and gets his campers in their best walking shoes and out the door towards the mess hall. They eat breakfast with the girls and then meet right at the base of the mountain, with the CITs taking the lead, the boys and girls in the middle, and Spencer and Toby in the back. Every now and then, they stop, point out the different plants and trees and sometimes even animals that they have in their guidebooks before pressing on. The goal is to make it to the top of the mountain by lunch, picnic there and then head back down. They've made it pretty far so far and only one camper has complained about her feet hurting. They're on a roll.

They stop at the top of the mountain and get a breathtaking aerial view of the mountain range, some of the leaves already starting to change color despite the fact that it's late August and not yet fall. Toby has to admit that this is one of the most beautiful things he's ever seen, despite not ever liking camp very much. It's quiet up here, peaceful, and the view is unlike anything he can find anywhere else. He glances to his left, notes the look of awe and complacency on Spencer's face and thinks that there may just be something comparable to the mountaintop's beauty. Her eyes sparkle in the sunlight, an almost golden brown, and it isn't like he hadn't noticed she was pretty before this. Anyone with eyes could see that. But this is the first time he really sees it, really _feels _it, and he doesn't catch himself staring at her. But she does.

"What?" She immediately panics. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Toby shakes his head. "Nothing. It's beautiful up here."

"I know," Spencer agrees. "Hiking day was always my favorite. I'd get up here and I'd feel like I was on top of the world."

He knows exactly what she means. They eat their sandwiches and fruit while marveling at the wonderful sights before exploring just a bit and then beginning to head down. They switch positions this time- Toby and Spencer in the front, campers in the middle, CITs in the back- and halfway down the mountain, Lydia shrieks, "Spencer! Spencer, Nathan tripped!"

One of the boys is on the ground, clutching his ankle and whining in pain. Toby and Spencer hurry over, the former asking, "You okay, bud? What happened?"

"I was racing Lydia and I tripped on a rock," Nathan admits guiltily. "My ankle _really_ hurts!"

Spencer kneels beside him and asks, gently, "I'm going to take a look at it, okay?"

The boy nods. She reaches down and rolls his sock down ever so gently, exposing his skin. Pressing down on a few pressure points, she asks, "Does this hurt?"

He nods with every question. Spencer motions for Natalie. "In your bag, the ice pack and the Ace bandage? I need it, please."

Toby watches in awe and a weird sense of pride as she fashions a makeshift wrap for Nathan's ankle and tells him, "You're going to be okay, alright? It isn't broken; it isn't even sprained- just a little twisted. You think you can walk on it?"

He tries and his little face twists in pain. Toby suggests, "I got you, bud. On my back."

He climbs up and mumbles, "Sorry."

"It's alright," Spencer smiles at him reassuringly. "But that's why we don't run down mountains, okay?"

"Save chasing Lydia for another day, when we're on flat ground," Toby adds and they're on the move again.

It's quiet most of the way down, but Toby has to know, "Are your parents doctors?"

She laughs. "Lawyers, actually. But I'm first-aid trained. I'm surprised you're not, being a counselor."

"They let you just do that?"

"Yeah," Spencer nods. "You just go to the Red Cross and take a class. It's easy. I'm also certified in administering emergency oxygen as well as infant, child and adult CPR."

"That's impressive," Toby states. "You're a good person to have around in an emergency."

She chuckles. "Guess so."

* * *

Day four goes by in a blur of baton races, swimming and failed attempts at teaching the campers archery, which gives Spencer the firm belief that you should never, _ever_, give nine-year-olds a bow and arrow. It's also the night of the campfire sing-a-long and all the girls are buzzing with excitement when they return to their cabin after dinner that evening. They dress in their pajamas and talk endlessly about how much fun they're going to have by the light of the fire. When it's dark and the stars are glittering in the sky above and the shimmering moon bathes the path with an ethereal light, Spencer leads her girls down to the campfire, where campers of all ages are gathering before it, sticks already gooey with marshmallows and chocolate and graham crackers being distributed evenly. One of the counselors of the oldest group begins to lead them in a rendition of "She'll Be Coming Around the Mountain," but Spencer's never been a singer, and from the looks of it, Toby isn't either.

She perches herself on the log beside Toby and he grins in greeting. She's never felt this before, this weird connection she seems to have with him, and it terrifies her and confuses her and excites her all at the same time. Spencer looks forward to seeing him everyday and she's actually disappointed when they have to part every night. She doesn't know what it is about him. He's funny and matches her wit and attractive, sure. But she's met plenty of people that fit that description in her life and yet none of them have ever challenged her the way he does, or treated her the way he does, or even looked at her the way he does. It's strange and she probably shouldn't dwell too much upon it and she definitely shouldn't pursue it; camp is over in three days and then she'll go back to her home and he'll go back to his. This already fills her with a feeling of melancholy.

"You're quiet," He then says, offering her the plastic bag of Jet-Puffed. "Marshmallow for your thoughts?"

She chuckles and accepts one, shoves it on the end of her stick and stretches it into the fire. "I was just thinking. It's crazy how camp is already almost over."

"Yeah," Toby nods. "This week went by fast. I don't know if I'm ready for school just yet."

"Are you a senior?" She asks, wondering how she doesn't already know this.

He shakes his head. "A freshman. In college. I'm so old."

She laughs. "You're not. Where are you going to college?"

"UPenn," Toby tells her and her eyes are wide. "What?"

"My _whole_ family went there," Spencer says. "They're probably going to excommunicate me if I don't do the same."

"You'll get in," He says. "If I did, you will."

She notes, "You don't seem excited about it."

"I never really wanted to go to college," Toby admits. "But my Dad… We made a deal. If I got a degree, then I could do whatever I wanted with my life. Which, ironically, I don't need a degree for."

"What do you want to do?"

"I want to be a contractor," He says. "I want to build houses. Which is fine, I guess. UPenn's got a great architecture program. I just wish I didn't have to waste four years learning what to do instead actually being out there _doing_ it."

She nods in understanding and they're quiet for a moment as she processes. Toby then says, "Your marshmallow's on fire."

Alarmed, she breaks out of her reverie. "What?"

"Your marshmallow's on fire," Toby chuckles and Spencer yanks the stick back towards her, waving it wildly until the flames extinguish.

"That's alright," Spencer covers lamely, peeling off the charred remains. "This is how I like it."

He eyes her strangely and she laughs, offering him the end of the stick. "Want some?"

"Yeah, I think I'm going to pass on that," He says, plucking it off the stick and tossing it into the fire. "And I think you should too."

"Hey!" She exclaims. "I was totally going to eat that."

"Don't sweat it," He waves it off. "We have plenty."

Toby slips another onto her stick and one on his as well, and Spencer watches the light of the fire dip and wave in his crystalline eyes. He smirks a moment later and she can feel the heat rise on her cheeks. "You okay?"

"Yeah," She clears her throat. "I'm great."

* * *

Day five brings thunderstorms and thick, pounding raindrops against the roofs of the cabins and the mess hall, where Toby's gathered his campers. They're all quietly bent over the table, constructing macaroni art, painting by number and gluing feathers, beads and glitter to construction paper. Toby knocks over a plastic container of Popsicle sticks and has to pick them up to the sound of giggling coming from the table beside his. The girls and Spencer are all watching and failing to keep their laughter to themselves. Toby shoots her a look and Spencer shrugs, getting back to her work.

"Toby," Elijah complains. "The girls beat us at everything."

"What?" Toby asks, alarmed. "No they don't. You guys are way better at eating than they are."

Some of the boys chuckle but Elijah is truly concerned. "No, I'm serious. They beat us at swimming. At archery. At relay races. They're even better at arts and crafts. And on Saturday, they'll probably beat us at-"

"Hey, hey, hey," Toby cuts him off. "What's the rule? We keep that a secret for new campers until the day of, remember?"

Elijah frowns. Ian then says, "He's right, Toby. We never win anything."

"I thought you said the girls didn't know how to work together?" Brandon wonders.

"You know what? I did say that," Toby nods. "I'm going to get to the bottom of this."

The boys watch eagerly as Toby crosses the room and when Spencer sees him approaching she shakes her head. "Hey, stick to your side. Our decorations for the farewell ceremony are so good, we don't want you copying any of our ideas."

"Yeah," Lydia backs her up. "Copycat!"

"Hey Lyd, mimicry is the highest form of flattery," Toby tells the girl and she laughs and continues cutting. He turns to address Spencer, "And you. I thought you told me your girls hated each other and did nothing but argue?"

"And I thought I told _you_ that I was going to whip them into shape?" Spencer repeats. "Look, there's no place for bad behavior in my cabin. We work together. We _win_ together."

"You win?" Toby smirks.

"We've won everything so far," Spencer shrugs. "It's only natural."

Toby frowns. "Well. We'll see about that."

"Yes we will," She nods, nevertheless chipper. "You'll see."

Toby smiles, feeling an odd sense of déjà vu. "Yeah. Guess we will."

* * *

Day six is hot. The leftover humidity and muggy weather from the storm the previous day leaves her girls sluggish and unwilling to do anything but laze around in the lake. Spencer is honestly okay with it; she hadn't wanted to spend any extra time out in the sun than she had to. They swim until their muscles are fatigued and their fingers look like prunes and when it's time for dinner, their hair still drips down their backs and they smell of the fresh water of the lake. The girls all but fall asleep in their pizza and salads and once Spencer and Natalie corral them back to the cabin, they get changed and then all of them pass out within moments. Spencer's dreaming beautiful, pleasant dreams, but they get interrupted by what she thinks, at first, is footsteps. A giggle. A hushed whisper.

She peels off her sleeping bag and rubs her eyes a little, doing a quick bed check and noting that all ten of her campers and her CIT are still fast asleep. And yet she definitely just heard a stifled giggle… Is it coming from outside? Spencer reaches beneath her bed, snatches her flashlight from the inside of her sneaker and walks slowly towards the far window. Nothing there. There's a window just above Natalie's bed and she creeps over slowly and carefully… but there's nothing there, either. Is she losing her mind? Is she dreaming? Sleepwalking? But just then, she shines her flashlight over the screen door and sees a pair of flashing blue eyes. Alarmed, she jumps backwards and asks, "What the-"

Before she can even finish her thought, the door bursts open and Toby, his CIT Travis and their ten campers burst in with squirt guns and wreak havoc on the tent of sleeping girls. They all shriek awake, surprised at the sudden bursts of water, and begin screaming at the tops of their little lungs. Spencer lunges for Toby, who throws his head back with laughter, and unleashes his super soaker on her. She sputters and swats him away, attempting to restrain him physically, but failing the moment water squirts into her eyes. The girls begin to toss stuffed animals, blankets and pillows at the boys in an effort to get them to stop, every single one of them squealing and screaming as loud as they can. And just when they think the terror will never end, Toby shouts, "Porcupines! Out!" and they drift off into the night, the cabin door banging shut behind them. All is silent.

Until, the madness begins. Brooke cries, "I'm _soaked!_"

"I'm _freezing_!" Lydia agrees.

Avery yawns. "I'm _tired_!"

"We _have_ to get them back," Hannah whines.

Spencer grins wickedly, wringing out her t-shirt. "Oh, we will. Tomorrow, those crazy boys won't know what hit them."

* * *

Day seven is the last day of camp and of course, is the moment all returning campers are waiting for and all new campers are anxious to experience. Each age group does something different to commemorate their time at camp and gather for one last hurrah and this year, the nine-year-olds are playing one giant game of Capture the Flag. Toby instructs each of his campers to dress in their camp shirts, so they'll all be uniformed, and then does so himself, to blend in with his surroundings. They meet on that great big field they'd enjoyed on day one and the girls come not much later, with war paint on their cheeks, ready for business. Spencer, hair in braids and a bandanna acting as a headband, meets him in the middle and holds out her hand for a friendly handshake.

"As team captain, I must wish you good luck," She says, shaking his hand firmly. "But I think we both know you're going to need more than luck to beat us."

"Oh yeah?" Toby counters. "Well you're going down. Midnight pranks aren't the only things we're good at, here."

"Let's get to the rules, shall we?" Spencer says. "We are using the Blue Heron flag from our cabin."

"We're using the Porcupine one."

"Tagged team members shall report to jail," Spencer goes on. "Each team has a jail and once a person goes to jail they are out of the game unless a person from their team can come and save them."

"That's fair," Toby nods. "When they are saved, they get free walk backs to their own territory."

"Also fair," Spencer agrees. "If a member from one team tries and fails to get the flag from the other team, it will result in a five minute pause so the other team can move the flag to a different location."

"That's good," He says. "I think we're ready."

"Alright then. Ready? Set? Go!"

There's pandemonium as twenty nine-year-olds race about to get in position and Toby follows suit. Capture the Flag had never been his strong suit- come to think of it; nothing athletic ever really was- but he'd enjoyed it all the same. There's something about the camaraderie that he always loved; the people he'd gone to camp with hadn't been his best friends, but on game day, everyone joined in and banded together and worked as a team. He hopes his campers feel the same way. There's a clear path to the other side, now, and Toby sneaks carefully towards the giant oak tree that marks the beginning of the girls' territory. Doing so requires going around the mess hall, and when he does, he fails to notice Lydia creeping behind the wall. She jumps out, tags him, and giggles uncontrollably, because apparently it's hilarious that now he's going to jail.

He gets to jail and balks at the sight of Spencer and no one else. Apparently, even his campers are better at sneaking than he is. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be on the field instead of on the sidelines?"

"We have a strategy, you know," Spencer says. "We worked on it all night. You know, while we were waiting for our clothes and beds to dry?"

"Sorry," Toby replies sheepishly, sinking to a sitting position in the grass. "But you know it's tradition for the boys to mess with the girls a little. It's what camp's for."

"Whatever you say," She shakes her head. "I had ten wet little girls this morning who were very angry and very eager for revenge. I'm sorry, Toby, but we're not going to lose."

"That's what you think," He smiles. "And it's an admirable attitude, really. You're very determined. I like that about you."

She smiles too, warm and slow. "I hope this doesn't sound too forward or weird since we've only known each other this week, but I'm going to miss you. We had a lot of fun."

Toby grins. "No, it's not weird at all. I'll miss you too. This has been a really great week. You showed me that this place is more than just a trap my Dad forces me to go to every summer. You actually made me enjoy it for once."

Something about his words must have touched her, because seconds later she's brushing her lips against his and he's weaving his fingers into her hair and they're kissing beneath that oak tree, Capture the Flag and campers utterly forgotten. He's fraternizing with the enemy, but he doesn't care; he's done pretending he hasn't been harboring feelings for this girl since the day they met. He's done ignoring the fact that they have an insane amount of chemistry between them and he's done trying to come up with reasons for why they just _fit_ together. There's a reason they ended up at the same camp with the same age group of kids, a reason his mother always used to use. Destiny. And it was never something he believed in, but back then, he'd never had anything that might cause him to believe in it.

"Gross!"

They pull apart to the sight of Nathan staring back at them and Toby tries to explain, "It's not what it looks like, bud, we were just-"

"Ian sent me here to jail break you," Nathan explicates. "But you look like you like jail so you can save yourself."

He turns and runs in the other direction and Spencer bursts into laughter. She checks her watch and stands brusquely. "Well, that's my cue, so-"

"Wait, wait, wait," Toby stops her. "You kissed me so that you could distract me? So you could leave? This was part of your plan?"

She bites her lip but shakes her head. "No, that just… It's a happy coincidence."

"Yeah right!" He exclaims. "I feel so used."

"Look, we can talk about this later," Spencer calls over her shoulder, jogging away. "I'm sorry you feel that way!"

"I can't believe you lied to me!" He calls after her. "Whatever, I'll just rot in jail!"

Moments later, cheering can be heard from the middle of the field and all the players are called to the center for the revelation of the winner. The girls are clutching the Porcupine flag victoriously and Toby honestly isn't surprised. Clearly, they'd had the better team captain. He ushers his campers back to their cabin to get packed and ready for the farewell ceremony; the buses would be here shortly. Spencer saunters up to him and he grins, offering his hand once more. "I guess congratulations are in order. The better team won."

"Hey, you still have next year, right?" Spencer chuckles, shaking his hand and then throwing her arms around him. "I had so much fun."

"I did too," He hugs her back and when she pulls away just slightly, she kisses him again, this time much more languidly and with feeling than before.

His eyes are still closed when they break apart and Spencer whispers, "I didn't kiss you to distract you. I kissed you because I wanted to."

Something deep inside him gives a tug and as Toby bends to kiss her again, he thinks that maybe Camp Winter Lake isn't so bad after all.


	3. you're gonna be nowhere

**Hello all! Hopefully we're all doing well on this fine day. Wherever you are, I hope you're not drowning in cold and snow, and if you are, remember that it's technically spring now, so things can get better from here. Or, if you're just really done, you can come down here, because Orlando's going to be 90 today. That's too hot for March, guys. But I digress. I guess I shouldn't complain. :P  
**

**Your reviews on the last chapter were fantastic. I seriously love you all. Also, thanks for your input on the show, too! Together, we can make it through this rut they're shoving Spoby through. And, really the rest of the characters as well. They're really kind of a train wreck. But anyway. We'll see if anything is actually ~revealed on Tuesday. Personally, I don't have any hope for that. Like I lost faith in the writers a long time ago and now I'm just along for the ride. But we'll see!**

**Today's chapter is based on my all-time favorite TV show, LOST, and thus is named after a song featured most presently in that show. The chapter title comes from "Make Your Own Kind of Music" by Mama Cass and the AU we find ourselves in today is, obviously, Spencer and Toby stranded on an island. Hopefully you'll enjoy! And maybe you'll want to watch LOST? All six seasons are on Netflix. :P**

* * *

you're gonna be nowhere, the loneliest kind of lonely

Searing, blinding, white-hot pain is coursing through his veins. It feels as though his entire body is on fire and he can't seem to do anything to stop it. He goes to move away from the heat and realizes he's paralyzed in place; something is holding him back, something is holding him down. Something or some_one_. A soft breeze tousles through the air but all his nerves are exposed and what should have been pleasant is instead agonizing. Everything hurts. But then… Why is there a breeze at three thousand feet in the air? How can he be in so much pain on a simple, routine flight? Why is there an ever-present smell of jet fuel and roaring, raging fire? Toby doesn't know. But if he had to venture a guess, it's probably a safe bet to say they never made it to Hawaii.

Painfully, Toby opens his eyes and immediately blood drips into his left one and he forces them closed again. Excruciatingly slowly, he lifts his hand to his eye, swipes away the blood and searches for its origin. There's a gash, he can't tell how deep just yet, right above his brow line and even his hands look foreign, he now realizes; calloused and rough and dirty. He's lying in a cavern of sand, right beside tall stalks of bamboo and a giant coral formation, and Toby thinks, horrifyingly, if he'd landed just five feet to left, his brains would be all over the beach and it would've been the end of him. He's lucky. And he'd laugh if it weren't so damn painful because how can anyone be lucky in a situation like this?

Wrapping a bloody, dirty hand around one of the bamboo stalks, Toby braces himself for the pain and hoists himself to a sitting position. His vision clouds with stars for a moment before going clear. Waves crash against the beach, seagulls soar between the clouds and it's a perfect, beautiful day. Or, it would be, if there weren't bits and pieces of the airplane he'd been traveling in strewn across the sand, suitcases upended and plane wings extending skyward. People are screaming for loved ones, people are screaming for help, people are just screaming. Some are hysterically sobbing, some are just staring in shock. And some are dead. Some are scattered along the beach, their bodies in mangled heaps and awkward angles and then Toby's entire world comes crashing down for the second time that day. _Spencer_.

Suddenly, all the pain and confusion ebbs away and instead are replaced by adrenaline. Toby stands and hurries over to the wreckage, telling anyone he can to get away from the engine. He scans the scene dexterously, taking it all in, and all the mayhem and carnage would be enough to bring one to tears. Jet fuel is spewing from the ends of the plane and the engine is still whirring and spinning wildly, sucking bits and pieces of the plane into its swirling vortex. The landing gear is in a jumbled mess and when jet fuel bathes it moments later, it catches fire. People are running through a maze of plane parts, searching for friends, searching for family, searching for lovers, and each time they find the one they're looking for, Toby watches them reunite and it's like a dagger to his heart.

He can't call her name; she'd never hear him over all the pandemonium. That doesn't stop other people from trying. Toby searches the crowd of running, frightened people, but not one of them matches the one he's looking for. With a grim disposition, Toby checks all of the dead, too, but she hasn't been one of them, so that's got to count for something, right? Just as he's coming around the back of the plane, he hears a baby crying and his eyes snap in that direction. A blonde woman, looking as rough as he feels, is bouncing the baby in her arms and pushing on the chest of a little girl, tears pouring down her cheeks as she pleads with the girl to take a breath. The little one must be four, five at the most, and her pigtails are askew and there's ash on her face. The woman notices Toby moments later and beckons him closer.

"Please! Please help me!" She screams. "She's not- She's not breathing!"

Toby collapses beside them and tilts the little girl's chin back. "What's her name?"

"Molly," The woman's voice breaks over her name. "Please help her!"

He presses two fingers to her neck and bends over the girl's mouth and nose. She isn't breathing, but there's a faint pulse, so she's still with them. Very gently, Toby begins chest compressions and rescue breaths, that four-hour long class he'd taken with Spencer finally paying off. "Come on, Molly. Come back to us."

"Oh my god," The woman sobs. "I've already lost my husband. I can't lose her too!"

The baby wails in her arms and the engine's still whirring behind them. Toby continues administering CPR, and how he's remaining so calm is still a mystery, even to him. "Molly, come on, now. It's okay. You're okay."

And moments later, in the middle of her chest compressions, Molly coughs and sputters and opens her eyes. Her mother shrieks and begins to kiss her endlessly as the little girl begins to cry. Her mother does, too. "I don't know how I'll ever repay you."

"That's not necessary," Toby insists and then something else catches his eye.

The engine begins to make garbled, strangled sounds and something tells him it's about to go. What's worse is that they're perched right beside it. Without warning, Toby scoops Molly into his arms, grabs her mother's hand and yanks her to a standing position. "Come on. We _have_ to get out of here!"

They sprint in the opposite direction and everyone he passes seems to get the same urgency and follows suit. Moments later, the engine erupts and the shockwaves send all of them careening to the ground. Toby shields the three of them as the shrapnel and flying debris soar through the air and hit the beach around them. Fire roars and adds heat to the already scorching day, but now that the engine has exploded, it's much more quiet. The only things left in the air are the screams of terror, screams of sorrow and screams of pain. Molly and her mother and brother are all in tears and Toby tries to tell them they'll be all right now, they're safe. He finds a young man wandering aimlessly through the rubble and stops him instantly.

"You!" Toby calls and the man stops. "What's your name?"

"Me?" The man wonders, as if he's just been discovered after millions of years. "It's Tim."

"Tim," Toby nods. "I need you to stay with these guys. Keep them out of danger. Watch over them."

Tim agrees and sinks into the sand beside them. "Alright."

"This is Molly and…" Toby drifts off as he goes to introduce them, realizing he'd never learned the baby's name or even the mother's. There hadn't been time. "I'm sorry."

She shakes her head. "Laura. And this is Mason."

"Laura and Mason, then," Toby says gently. "If you guys need anything, just call for me."

And as he begins to jog away, Tim shouts back, "Wait, what's _your_ name?"

"Toby," He offers and then he's gone.

He still hasn't found Spencer and that thought is causing a pit the size of Texas in his gut. He jogs past more wreckage and balks at the sight of the back half of the plane. He can see right inside it, the wires and cables hanging and sparking and the seats torn apart and falling out. There are suitcases strewn about and Toby frowns because these are people's lives, spilled all over the carcass of the plane. There are orange plastic containers of antibiotics and medicines and toothbrushes still in their cases. There are countless shirts, skirts, dresses and shorts, never to be worn again by their owner. There's a stroller and a pet carrier, but no pet inside. There's a teddy bear and photo album and a fairly expensive camera, smashed to pieces. Toby spends so long just looking at remnants of people's belongings that he momentarily gets choked up.

And after a while, he starts to hear a faint voice. "Help… Somebody… Please help me…"

Call him crazy, but it sounds as though it's coming from inside the fuselage. Toby peeks his head in and his eyes widen. A man is hanging upside down from one of the seats, his seatbelt fused together and unrelenting. "Help me, please!"

"We'll get you out of there," Toby calls to him. "Just hang tight a minute, okay? I'm going to get something to cut you out of it and someone to catch you."

Toby hops down from the plane and begins to search through all of the bags for a pocketknife. The FAA regulations would of course prevent this from being in a carry on, but moments later, Toby finds one in one of the checked bags. He gathers two other people to stand below the man and all three of them climb back into the bowels of the plane. It already smells like death and Toby has to wonder how long it's been since they've crashed. He climbs upward, bracing himself on the seats behind the stuck man and trying studiously to ignore the bodies of the dead still strapped in their seats behind him. Reaching forward, he begins to saw at the seatbelt, back and forth in a steady motion, and only then does the man begin to panic.

"Oh my god, is he dead? He's dead isn't he?" He asks, motioning towards the man beside him. "Oh my god. Oh my god."

"Just relax," Toby tells him. "We're going to get you out of here."

"They're all dead, aren't they?" He grows pale. "Oh, I'm going to be sick."

"No. Don't get sick," Toby says. "You're fine. What's your name?"

"Steve."

"Steve, we're going to get you out of here and you're going to be okay," Toby insists. "Don't think about where you are. Think about where you're going."

"I was going to Hawaii to meet my granddaughter for the first time," Steve laments. "Where am I going now?"

Toby pauses a moment. "I don't know."

In moments, the seatbelt comes loose and Steve tumbles downward, into the awaiting arms of the guys below. The four of them climb out of the fuselage and Steve keeps his promise by getting sick seconds later. Toby doesn't blame him. If he doesn't find Spencer soon, he might be following in Steve's footsteps. A bit further down the beach, he hears shouts and cries from panicked patrons and notices the plane wing has fallen to the ground and pinned two people beneath it. It's crushed the man's skull, but the woman he was with might be all right if they can get her out from underneath it. Toby beckons the two guys he'd commandeered for Steve over and they head in that direction, push through the crowd that's forming and reach for the plane's wing.

"Just leave me," The woman sobs. "Just leave me here to die."

"We're not going to do that," Toby tells her. "We'll get you out of here."

"No! Don't!" She wails. "If Richard's gone, I have nothing left anyway!"

Toby glances beside her and notes that Richard must have been her husband. His heart gives another painful tug and he shakes his head, motioning to the guys he's acquired. "On three."

They go to lift the wing and it doesn't budge. More people volunteer, surrounding Toby on either side, and grab for the hunk of metal. Toby, instead, grabs the woman's arms. "We're not letting you die like this."

She's inconsolable and doesn't reply. Again, Toby shouts, "On three! One, two, three!"

This time, they're successful and when they pull the woman out from underneath the wing, it's left both her legs severely bloodied and damaged. One of the men from the opposite side of the wing shouts, "I'm a doctor!"

"Good," Toby nods. "Get her out of here."

He sprints away from the scene, but the adrenaline is dying down and the pain is starting to set in again. It's much quieter, now. The fires are starting to die down and the engine's been gone for hours and people aren't screaming, anymore. Toby strays away from the beach, back towards where he'd first awoken, and sits upon the coral reef formation to finally address the gash on his forehead. It isn't bleeding anymore, but he's sure he must look like the hero at the end of a horror movie- battered, bruised, bloodied and a little broken. Standing, Toby trudges down to the beach and begins to soak his hands, his face and his hair, hissing in pain when the salt water meets his open wound. The smell of jet fuel is still pungent and though the screaming has stopped, the crying has not.

Toby looks down and realizes his hands are shaking.

* * *

He doesn't remember much of the crash. He's pretty sure he blacked out from fear and panic and didn't wake up until his body hit the beach. What he does remember is what came before. He and Spencer had been late to the airport and their first-class seats were ironically given out to another honeymooning couple while they were bumped to coach. In their defense, weddings are exhausting and they'd been on the move nonstop the day prior, so of course they overslept in their giant bed in the honeymoon suite. It was only natural. In retrospect, they probably shouldn't have booked their flight for the morning directly after their wedding night. And as irritating as the change was for Spencer, Toby had calmed her by telling her that as long as they got there, it didn't matter how.

It was a long flight from Pennsylvania to Hawaii and they slept a little, but mostly they were much too excited to get there and filled with leftover giddiness from their wedding the day prior. Five hours into the flight, Spencer began to shift uncomfortably and frowned. "I have to pee."

Toby smirked. "So go. The bathroom's up in first class."

"I'm not going up there," Spencer disagreed. "Those are _supposed_ to be our seats up there."

"So you're going to stick it to the man by not using the bathroom?" He chuckled. "That seems like you're only punishing yourself, not them."

She considered it and shook her head. "No. They should have a grace period. We weren't _that_ late."

"We were over an hour late, Spence," Toby told her. "It's fine. Let it go. Go pee."

"There has to be a bathroom at the back of the plane," Spencer said. "They can't expect all of us commoners to go up where the other half lives."

"There is," Toby confirmed. "But it's been occupied for like ten minutes. It's probably someone who gets airsick. You don't want to go in there after them."

"Ew," She scrunched up her nose. "It's fine. I can hold it."

"For five more hours?" He questioned. "Because that's how long we have left."

"Forget it, let's watch a movie," Spencer suggested, sticking an earphone in and handing him the other. "Anything you want. I don't care."

"Anything I want?" Toby exclaimed. "Okay. Do you mind if I document this? This never happens."

She eyed him. "It never will again if you keep sassing me."

He chuckled and picked a random comedy from the list as Spencer came to rest her head against his shoulder. Toby pressed a kiss to her crown as the opening credits rolled but after mere minutes of the watching the movie, Spencer began to fidget again. Toby rolled his eyes and said, "Just go. I'll even pause the movie for you."

"Fine," Spencer gave in. "But this isn't over. The airline will hear about this."

"About the bathroom in first class?" Toby asked and she shot him a look.

"About the nonsense late policy and them giving up our perfect seats," Spencer corrected before standing and heading towards the front of the plane. "I'll be right back."

Toby grinned, watching her go and wondering how he got so lucky so early in life. A flight attendant came by and offered him a drink and he declined and, thinking of Spencer's bladder, declined for her as well. The engine roared beneath them and stalled and they hit a rough patch of turbulence that left Toby gripping his seat with white knuckles. The pilot came over the intercom, instructed all flight staff to return to their seats, and turned on the fasten seatbelt sign faster than Toby had ever seen. The wings began to buckle, the plane began to vibrate and suddenly, it dropped twenty, thirty, forty feet as though this were a thrill ride at some amusement park. There was a horrifying sound of screeching metal, screams of terror, and the plane was going down, down, down-

And that's all he remembers. The next thing he knows, he's waking up on the beach.

* * *

"I can't get a signal," Tim announces to the group, holding his cell phone as high as it'll go. "Tell me they don't have service on this godforsaken island."

"Why would they have service in the middle of the south pacific?" A man shouts out. "There aren't any cell towers out here!"

"But they're looking for us, right?" Steve wonders. "They have to be looking."

"Of course they're looking for us," A woman answers. "The plane had a black box, right? They probably know exactly where we are."

"At least someone does!"

"That's not even what a black box _does_!"

Toby allows them to argue and contributes nothing to the conversation. There are roughly forty of them left and none of them are Spencer, that's all he cares about. He's sitting away from them, by a giant signal fire they'd built before it started to get dark, and he feels incredibly lonely and ridiculously stupid. Of course Spencer isn't here; Spencer had been in the front of the plane at the time of the crash and the front of the plane is gone. It's obvious to anyone who looks at it that the plane had broken in half, but he'd thought, in his naïve way, that it had broken in half upon impact, not while it was still in the sky. He's glad he blacked out, now, because he can't imagine how horrifying that must have been to experience. Now, he sits dejectedly, waiting for rescue, twisting his wedding ring over and over, defeated.

Moments later, Laura and her two kids come walking up the beach towards him. Mason's asleep in her arms and Molly waves excitedly when she sees Toby. He smiles the best he can and greets her. "Hi Molly. How are you feeling? Better now?"

She nods and wraps her tiny arms around him in a hug. Surprise must be evident in his eyes, because Laura explains, "We wanted to thank you for saving her life."

She sits beside him as Molly lets go and offers him a small tray covered in tin foil. "I brought you some dinner. It's what we found in the back of the plane."

Toby accepts it, peels back the foil a bit and peers down at the cold chicken, rice and green beans. "Thanks. I'm not very hungry."

"You should eat," Laura insists. "Our fearless leader's got to keep his strength up."

Toby's never considered himself fearless and he's definitely no leader, but he says nothing. Laura then asks, "What were you going to Hawaii for?"

He doesn't know how to say the words without vomiting. Laura misinterprets his silence and answers her own question instead. "My husband and I were taking the kids to that Disney resort, Aulani? We figured we'd get the island vacation we wanted and they would still get to see Mickey. Best of both worlds, you know?"

She sighs, tears filling her eyes. "We crashed but all made it and then… We couldn't get out of the plane. The burning engine was in our way. Molly was unconscious and Curt was stuck… And he told me to get out and save the kids, that he was right behind me… And then he wasn't."

"I'm sorry," Toby tells her, knowing what comes next. The explosion is still ringing in his ears. "I wish I'd had time to save both of them."

"No, this isn't on you," Laura insists. "You saved my daughter's life. That's more than I can ever repay you for as it is."

Toby inhales a deep breath in the silence that follows. He glances out at the dark, undulous waves and says, "We were on our honeymoon. My wife and I… We just got married yesterday. We were sitting in the middle but she got up to use the restroom… And didn't come back."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Laura claps a hand to her mouth. "You just got married yesterday. Oh god!"

"I'm going into the jungle tomorrow or I'm going to walk this whole beach," Toby tells her firmly. "I'm going to find her."

Laura eyes him. "What do you mean?"

"The front of the plane is missing," Toby says. "But it's got to be somewhere. It's not like it disappeared into thin air. And she was in it, so… She's got to be there too."

Laura says nothing. Toby doesn't have to ask to know where her mind is. "You think I'm crazy."

"No," Laura shakes her head, insistent. "I think you're in love. And if I thought there was any chance the love of _my_ life was still out there, I'd go looking too."

He nods. "Right."

"Just do me a favor?" She asks. "Don't go alone. We're going to need you around here."

She smiles, stands, and leads Molly and Mason away. Toby's left to contemplate her words, unsure of how to take it that these people seem to think he's their leader now. He has hope that any moment now, they'll see the bright, blinding lights of helicopters or rescue boats to be their saving grace. But if they don't… He doesn't know how to be a leader. That was always Spencer's role and he was more than content to let her take control. She was good at it too; a natural-born leader, even if at times she doubted herself. He has no doubt in his mind that she would have done the very same thing today- take care of everyone else, make them safe and sound, before worrying about herself. He lies back against the sand, watches the stars, and waits for rescue, waits for answers, waits for a sign. The only thing he gets is the bright sunshine on a brand new day.

"Why haven't they found us yet?" A woman asks impatiently the next morning. "It's been, like, fourteen hours since the crash."

"We're already running out of food and water," A man complains. "Do we have to, like, hunt and shit?"

"Mommy," Molly says quietly. "I wanna go home."

They all turn to Toby and he clears his throat. "I'm heading into the jungle today. There was some smoke I noticed earlier this morning just past the tree line. I believe this might be the front of the plane and I'd like to make a trip to see if there are any other survivors. We can look for water sources and maybe some fruit while we're out there as well. I'm leaving in ten minutes. If anyone wants to come along, don't hesitate."

Tim and a woman named Michelle follow him into the woods moments later. The entire walk is in silence until about an hour in, Michelle pipes up. "Toby, what do you think we're going to find?"

"If we're lucky, the other half of the plane," He says. "If not… Nothing."

"What are you looking for, man?" Tim wonders. "You seem really on edge."

Toby thinks of everything Spencer is and everything they have and all they've ever done together and says, honestly, "I lost everything in that plane crash yesterday. I'm hoping to get it back."

It's hot and humid and sticky, but the sun is beginning to duck behind the gray storm clouds that have come rolling in just as they come to a clearing in the jungle. It hadn't always been a clearing, but the thick white body of a plane had leveled many of the trees in the surrounding area, branches and palm fronds poking through the front window of the plane. It's eerily quiet and Toby feels the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Something isn't right. It's much too silent for there to have been any survivors. But he presses on, unable and unwilling to accept this as the truth. The nose of the plane is in the air and the jagged opening is pressed against the ground. Toby turns to his comrades and nods.

"Check the surrounding area for survivors," He orders, beginning to climb into the plane's remains. "I'm going in."

It's a grim scene and he balks immediately at the strong scent of death. Slowly walking through the aisle, he glances upon each of the passengers, still strapped into their seats, some with oxygen masks still around their noses and mouths, and waits for movement. He isn't surprised when no one stirs; everyone in the front section of the plane is dead and for a moment, Toby is taken aback because this was almost them; this _would_ have been them, had they not been late the day earlier. As he continues forward, his eyes fall upon the very honeymooning couple that had gotten their seats and his stomach rolls as he notes their hands are still intertwined, even in death. For some reason, he feels lucky and if he ever gets off this damn island, he's going to thank that man at the gate who gave their seats away, who saved his life. He's reached the very front of the plane now, and the cockpit door is wide open and hanging off its hinges and Toby starts uncomfortably when he notices the front window is broken and the glass shards are in the copilot's chest. The pilot has a branch full of palm fronds through his skull.

Glancing away, Toby's eyes come to rest on the bathroom door and his heart beats faster and his palms begin to sweat and he can feel bile begin to rise in his throat. Spencer is nowhere to be found, but if she's going to be anywhere, it's here. He takes a few deep, palliative breaths and tries to tell himself to remain calm, despite the fact that inside, he's screaming. Part of him doesn't want to open the door, doesn't want to confirm what he hopes more than anything isn't true, but part of him needs it if he's ever going to go back and face those people on the beach. He needs to stop clinging to the hope that she's still alive; he needs to just know. Toby reaches outward with a shaking hand and grips the door handle, giving it a tug. It doesn't budge. He adjusts his grip, jiggles it a little and yanks with all his might and still, it doesn't move. It's jammed shut, fused together from the impact, and just when Toby is wracking his brain trying to figure out a way in, he hears the faintest stir from the other side and stops dead.

"Is… Is someone there?"

His heart soars skyward and he's filled with an unrelenting sense of relief. "Spencer?"

"Toby?" He hears her cry. "Oh my god… Oh my god…"

"Oh my god, Spence, you're alive," He loses himself in the joy of finding her just for a moment. "I thought… Oh my god."

"I can't get the door open," She panics. "I've tried everything. I can't… It won't budge!"

"It's okay, it's okay," He repeats, searching the area for something, anything, that might help. "I'm going to get you out of there. I promise."

"Hurry. Please hurry." Spencer pleads and he can't blame her for it. If he were trapped in an airplane bathroom for sixteen hours, he'd go crazy, too.

Frantically, Toby begins searching for anything that might break her out of there and finally, he finds a fire extinguisher behind a pane of glass. He kicks it in, snatches the object, and begins to bash it repeatedly against the door handle. Over and over they collide, each time with more animalistic fury, because he can't seem to free her fast enough for his liking. What feels like hours later, the handle splinters off and the door pops open and Spencer's in his arms before he can even process her presence. He drops the extinguisher on the floor and wraps his arms around her, nearly lifting her into the air with the intensity of their embrace. Moments later, she's crying; he can feel the tears drop onto his shirt and when they begin to sting at his eyes as well, he allows himself a moment to lament with her because it could have been so much worse.

"I thought you were dead," She sobs. "I thought I lost you. I thought-"

"Shh, I'm here," He quiets her, smoothing her hair. "I'm okay. You're okay. We made it and we're going to be fine."

"The turbulence was so bad," She says, shaking. "And then I heard this sound, like metal breaking apart, and all of a sudden we were in free fall. I just curled up in a ball in the corner and made myself as small as I could and then… We crashed. It was loud and hard and painful and it knocked me out for a minute but when I came to, I couldn't get the door open. I tried everything… And then I thought someone here would help me, but no one ever came."

"They're dead, Spencer," Toby explains. "They're all dead."

"The whole plane?" Her eyes widen and Toby shakes his head.

"The plane broke in half. The front section landed in here, in the jungle, and the back end landed on the beach," He says. "There are about forty of us back there."

Spencer asks eagerly, "And no one's come for us yet?"

Toby sadly shakes his head. "No one's come."

She glances around the skeleton of the plane, shivers, and asks, "Can we go? Can we please get out of here?"

"Yes. Yeah, come on. Let's go," He wraps an arm around her and leads her back down the aisle. She gasps in horror at the sight of the dead bodies and he pleads with her, "Don't look at them."

She doesn't heed his warning. "Toby… Those are our seats."

"I know," He ushers her away. "Come on."

"We almost died," She says brokenly. "We _should have_ died."

"But we didn't," He tells her simply. "And now we have to go on."

They climb down from the nose of the plane and meet up with Tim and Michelle before hiking on, back towards the beach. Spencer's clutching Toby's hand in a vice-like grip and staring absentmindedly into space and he's sure her thoughts are a million different places at once, and given all she's been through in the past forty-eight hours, it would make sense, but she's still starting to scare him. She stops a moment, so he stops, and when he looks at her, he's sure she's going to burst into tears again, but instead she frames his face with both of her hands and kisses him with more passion than he'd thought she was capable of in her current emotional state. He kisses her back just as strongly, all his love and fear and relief poured into it, and caresses her face the tiniest bit when she pulls away.

There are tears in her eyes when she says, "I was so scared."

Her sentence has a million different reasons and a million different meanings and he feels every single one of them with just as much intensity as the love he has for her. "I know, Spence. I know. Me too."

"I love you so much," She whispers. "I love you so much and I can't lose you."

"I love you too," He promises. "And I'm not going anywhere."

They return to the beach and everyone welcomes Spencer as though she's been a part of them all along. There's still no sign of rescue and their food and water supplies are dipping dangerously low, but two guys have begun to set fishing nets and a woman has picked a large surplus of mangos and pineapples, so they might be okay. Steve and a couple of the others have harvested a few of the pieces of the fuselage to use for makeshift shelters and Laura has done a wonderful job of keeping that signal fire burning day and night. They aren't giving up hope; they'd like a rescue more than just about anything right now. But it's been twenty-four hours now with no sign of it and after all, they must survive.

That night, as everyone is turning in for bed, Toby and Spencer lounge beneath the shining stars and watch the waves seep into the shore before them. His arm's around her when he says, "This is not the honeymoon I'd had in mind."

Spencer chuckles quietly. "Hardly. If we ever get out of here, the airline _will_ hear about this."

Toby nods. "Right after you complain about their late policy, right?"

She grows serious and shakes her head. "No. That late policy saves lives."

He kisses her temple just as Laura and her two kids walk by. He nods in greeting and she grins. "Goodnight, you two. Spencer, it's so good to have you here. What's a king without his queen?"

Toby laughs. "Goodnight Laura. Bye Mason, Molly!"

Molly giggles and waves and the three are on their way. Spencer nods towards them and asks, "Friends of yours?"

"Oh yeah, we go way back," He jokes and then adds, "I kind of, sort of saved that little girl's life yesterday. And Laura's nice. She's a widow now, which is unfortunate."

Her eyes widen. "You saved someone's life?"

"A few people, actually," Toby shrugs. "I was looking for you and I couldn't find you but everyone needed help. I did what I had to do… I did what I thought you might do."

Spencer smiles slowly. "You are the most amazing person I know."

"Funny," He kisses her quickly. "That's how I feel about you."

A soft breeze tousles the palm fronds and the salty seawater laps at the shore and smoke from the signal fire billows into the sky long into the night. Maybe rescue hadn't come today and maybe it won't tomorrow either; maybe it won't come at all. But now that they've found one another, Toby and Spencer will take it all, hand in hand.


	4. every morning i walk towards the edge

**Hello friends! So... Charles, huh? LOL. Does everyone else think it's as stupid as I do, or is that just me? I was totally down for this finale, too. It was a pretty good episode and then they go and do what they always do at the end of the season- absolutely nothing. Why were we even expecting any answers, to be honest? We don't ever get any. And it's because the writers know they've sucked us in; they don't have to do anything because they know we'll keep watching. And the sad part is, they're right lol.**

**Anyway, sorry it's been almost a week since I've updated. My mom and I were on a kind of mini-vacation this past week so I hadn't really been on the internet that much and definitely wasn't around long enough to update. But I love you guys so much and I'm so glad you enjoyed the last chapter. I really enjoyed reading all your kind words and fabulous feedback. I hope it doesn't sound too forward to ask you to keep it coming. :D  
**

**Today's chapter title comes from "Hyper-Ballad" by Bjork and the AU we find ourselves in today is coping with mental illness. Now, I know what you're thinking; Spencer's mental health issues are so overused and honestly, you could never do it as well as SpobyFicStalker in "A Beautiful Mind." And I agree. So, do enjoy. :)**

* * *

every morning i walk towards the edge

She doesn't register the change right away; it's gradual and slow until it isn't. It's right there, right in her face, and she tries not to accept it as the truth. One moment, he's her wonderful, caring, perfect boyfriend and the next, he's still there, somewhere, but his eyes are a little wilder and his actions take her by the kind of surprise that might terrify her if she hadn't known his intentions were pure. She does the best she can to ignore it and tells that nagging feeling deep inside her that it's probably nothing; she worries too much, anyway. She'll go on and act as though nothing is wrong and maybe she'll be convincing enough that she'll actually begin to believe it.

They're driving home one night when she first gets a hint of it. It's late summer, school's due to start in a week, and they'd just left Hanna's house where they'd had a bonfire with all their friends. He's driving with one hand on the steering wheel and one on her knee, the windows rolled all the way down to allow the breeze to filter in. Crickets are crooning their nightly song and there's not a cloud in the sky and it's this kind of feeling that gives Spencer all the peace in the world. He looks over at her and smiles and she smiles back, a warm feeling filling her insides with a love only he can provide and only he can produce from her. But then, he misses the turn towards her house and Spencer watches her street pass by in a blur of nightly colors.

"What are you doing?" She asks. "Where are we going?"

"What do you say we take a trip?" Toby suggests, driving onward. "We should go to the Cape. It's only a few hours from here. My parents used to take me when I was little."

"It's like seven hours," Spencer reasons. "And I have to work tomorrow. Emily and I are going school supply shopping… You can come, if you want."

"I don't want to go back to school without an adventure," Toby shakes his head. "Come on, it could be great. The beach, the sun, the boardwalk… We could build sandcastles and go boogey boarding-"

"Toby, I have to go home," She says. "My parents will be wondering where I am. They'll worry."

"We'll call them from the road," Toby shrugs. "This is going to be so great. Our first trip together!"

"We can't," She pleads. "We don't have any clothes or money… We don't even have a place to stay."

"I've got fifty bucks in my wallet," Toby tells her. "We can get a cheap place right by the water, I'm sure of it."

"Toby..." Spencer trails off, unsure of what to say. She's never seen him like this- so adamant, so unyielding. "We have to go home."

He reaches over and turns the volume on the radio all the way up. "I _love_ this song. Sing along!"

She's frozen in place. He's drumming along on the steering wheel, nodding his head in time with the music, and singing, "_But I would walk five hundred miles and I would walk five hundred more. Just to be the man who walked a thousand miles to fall down at your door!_"

Her heart is pounding and for the first time in their relationship, Spencer's fearful. Not of him, but of his behavior; nothing she says seems to get through to him and she doesn't know what to do. Worse is that they're in a moving vehicle and she can't get away or get a second opinion no matter what she does. They've just left the neighborhood and he's heading for the highway and Spencer has to stop this before it's too late. She inhales a deep breath and reaches for the radio, switching it off. Toby frowns and glances at her as if he's seeing her for the first time, his clear blue eyes as faultless as she'd ever seen them, and she thinks maybe, just maybe, he's come back to her.

"Toby," She speaks evenly. "I can't. _We _can't. Please… I need to go home."

Toby's quiet for a while before turning the car around and heading back for their neighborhood. "You're right. We can't."

He drops her off right outside her front door and she kisses him goodnight and pleads, "Text me when you get home."

He shakes his head. "I'll call you."

"Even better," She smiles. "Love you."

"Love you too," He murmurs. "Goodnight."

The next day and the day after that and the day after that, there's no evidence of his behavior from that night and Spencer thinks, naively, that maybe it was a one-time deal.

Until it happens again.

* * *

One Saturday in late September, Spencer waits for hours and hours for Toby to show up at her house so they can study. They've got a giant French test first thing Monday morning and she loves her boyfriend very much, but he's not so good with other languages. They plan to meet at her house at noon, but it's pushing three o'clock and he still hasn't arrived. Calls and texts go unanswered and he's honestly starting to scare her. Maybe he's sick or maybe they had a family emergency; _something_ had to be the cause of his absence. He never abandons her like this. Without waiting any longer, Spencer yanks on a sweatshirt and a pair of shoes and heads out of the house. If he's not making a house call, than she will.

Parking her car right out front, Spencer walks right up to the front door and knocks three times sharply. A cool fall breeze tousles the crunchy leaves on their porch and leaves Spencer shivering, peering into the window beside the front door and waiting for a reply. The Cavanaughs' garage door is open and she can see both Toby's truck and his father's sedan parked inside, so she knows they're home. She knocks a couple more times and is just considering ringing the bell when she hears footsteps coming closer and the locks clicking out of place. Daniel Cavanaugh appears a moment later, the door open just a crack, a look of impatience on his face.

"Spencer," He greets her with a curt nod and says nothing more.

"Hi Mr. Cavanaugh," She greets him cordially. "I was just looking for Toby. We had a study date and he didn't show up. Is he here?"

"Yes," Daniel hesitates. "But I'm afraid he's a bit under the weather today. He's… not quite himself."

Spencer frowns. She'd been right to worry. "Can I see him?"

He sighs. "Alright. Come on."

He steps aside so she can enter and she thanks him quickly before bounding up the stairs. She's honestly afraid of what she'll find when she pushes the door open, but she knocks twice and does so anyway. It's dark and it takes her eyes a moment to adjust, but when they do, she notes why. All the lights are off, the blinds are down and his curtains are drawn, letting in none of the beautiful fall sunshine. Toby's in bed, the sheets and comforter pulled all the way up to his chin and he's staring monotonously at the ceiling, his breathing even as though he could be sleeping. He makes no effort to greet her as she comes in; in fact, she's not sure he's even noticed her at all.

"Toby?" She starts. "Hey. I heard you're not feeling well."

He says nothing. He doesn't even blink. She continues. "That's okay. We don't have to study. We can work on it tomorrow. You should rest."

Again, he makes no sudden movement and Spencer sighs. "Are you hungry? Do you want me to bring you some food? I'm sure your Dad wouldn't mind if I made you something, right? Not going to lie, I make a great chicken soup."

Toby exhales heavily. Spencer bites her lip. "Or we could just hang out. Watch a movie or something. There's always new stuff on Netflix."

Silence is all she's met with. Beginning to get frustrated, Spencer asks, "Okay, do you want me to go? Because I will. You really freaked me out when you didn't respond today and I wanted to check on you but if you don't want me here…"

He doesn't say anything, but his eyes shift towards hers and she wonders, "Or I could stay…?"

He stares a moment more before rolling over to face the wall, his back to her, shutting her out. She doesn't know what to do, so she sinks into his desk chair and counts the minutes until he returns to normal.

Only, he doesn't, this time.

* * *

In the middle of the winter, Rosewood is hit with the worst snowstorm they'd ever seen. A thick blanket of snow and ice coats the entire town and it's accompanied by the kind of cold that freezes your wet hair and seeps through the cracks of your jacket and sets wet eyelashes in icy clumps. Spencer's driving home from school, a bit jittery, a bit on edge, because Toby had skipped and she wishes she could say it was the first time, but it's not. She has nightmares of finding him catatonic in bed, but she must make some attempt to reach out to him in an effort to remind him she's still there. She coasts by his house and it looks just as empty as she feels, but then she spots him in the front yard and pulls her car alongside his driveway, into park.

Her boots crunch in the snow as she approaches him. He's lying on his back, staring at the sky, and there's a look of bliss on his face even though she can see the icicles forming on the tips of his hair and his lips are a deep blue. It's then that she notices he's wearing next to nothing- a thin cotton t-shirt and a pair of boxers are all that shield him from the snow upon the ground. Crouching beside him, her voice is frantic, "Toby! What the hell are you doing? You're going to die out here! It's _freezing!_"

He glances at her and his smile melts into a grin. "Hey Spence."

She freezes a moment and asks, "Are you… _trying_ to die?"

"What? No!" He exclaims, reaching up and pulling her down beside him. "Why would I want to die when I have the whole world at my fingertips?"

"We really should get you inside," Spencer worries, her own teeth beginning to chatter. "Your skin is like ice."

"So it's cold? So what?" Toby shrugs. "That's the beauty of nature. Look at that. Just _look_."

He's pointing at the sky, the grey clouds starting to spew little snowflakes once more. Spencer hates the winter and she doesn't know what she's supposed to be seeing, but she's clearly not in his mindset. "Yeah, it's, um… It's nice."

"Nice? It's perfect," Toby sighs. "Tell me where else in the world you can see something like this. This is like the miracle of life, almost! It's just… It's breathtaking, really."

He closes his eyes. "I wanted to see it. I wanted to _feel_ it. I wanted to feel something, at least. Just for once."

"Toby," Spencer speaks calmly although her insides are raging. "Can we go inside? Maybe make some hot chocolate or something?"

Toby grins. "That sounds great. Come on!"

He bounds up, grabbing her hand and taking her inside. She wraps a blanket around him the moment he sits down and, for good measure, wraps the family quilt around him too. The fireplace is already roaring and Spencer starts boiling a pot of water for hot chocolate; he would be all right, now. But the question remains- would she?

* * *

In March, Spencer shows up with a birthday cake and presents, a grin upon her face and hope in her heart that today would be one of his good days. Naïveté prevents her from thinking Toby could ever be down on his birthday, but when the front door opens and she sees his father's face, the hopeful smile slips off her own. He nods her inside and she doesn't have to ask to know where Toby's going to be and how she's going to find him. She places the cake and the presents on his nightstand and kisses his forehead, but he makes no movement and says not a word. Spencer backs up, towards the doorway, and wonders if she goes back, rewinds, and starts over if he'll be Toby again, if she can pretend this never happened and start anew.

Moments later, she can feel a presence behind her and Daniel is there, in the doorway behind her, staring at his motionless son. "I've got to get that kid medicated."

And Spencer wonders, not for the first time, why his tone is so heartless and why it's taken him this long to realize there's something wrong. She speaks up, her voice shaking, "I-I think he just needs some help… Is he seeing anyone?"

Daniel snorts. "He's seeing you, isn't he?"

"I'm not a psychiatrist," Spencer frowns, glancing back over at her boyfriend, who is still staring hard at the cracks on the ceiling. "Some days, even I can't get him to talk."

"I can't do this again," Daniel grumbles, shaking his head. "Not after Marion."

And there it is, the elephant in the room, the very thing she'd been thinking all along but had been terrified to mention. Long ago, in the very beginning of their relationship, Toby had told Spencer that his mother passed away when he was younger, but he offered very few details on how exactly he lost her. Over time, he revealed bits and pieces of his mother's illness, ending with her suicide from behind the walls of a sanitarium, but to this day, Spencer was a bit foggy on all the specifics. She can only imagine how difficult it must've been for Toby to watch his mother fall apart and have that nagging sensation that mental illnesses are hereditary and he could be next. And for Daniel to witness not only his wife fall prey to this disease but his son too… Well, she'd pity him if he weren't so damn emotionless.

She wants to know but is also terrified of the answer. "Was it this bad… with his Mom?"

Daniel sighs heavily and heads for the stairwell. "It was worse."

* * *

The last straw comes in April, when Daniel remarries and forces Toby to be the best man. He'd stayed remarkably calm throughout most of the wedding planning, despite the fact that it's basically shotgun and he knows almost nothing about the woman now moving into his home and taking his mother's place. Spencer attends the wedding for support; she holds his hand and keeps her eyes trained on him throughout the ceremony and she can feel how tense he is, but he remains silent. At the reception, she's sitting beside him when one of his aunts taps her glass and begs for his speech. He's been working on it for a few days; Spencer knows because she offered her expertise and what they'd produced together had been polished and polite. But that's not what comes out of his mouth.

"To my Dad and Lisa," Toby speaks evenly, his glass high in the air. "Congratulations."

He sits down again and everyone glances around nervously, wondering if that's truly the end. Lisa scoffs, "That's it? That's all you have to say?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Toby stands, mocking hurt. "Were you expecting something else? Something Shakespearian, perhaps? Or maybe some Pablo Neruda? Did you want me to quote the first Corinthians like some clichéd romance film where I go on and on about how precious and beautiful your love is and how fucking lucky you two were to find each other?"

A few patrons gasp and he steps out from around the table, into the middle of the floor. "No, really, that's what I'll do. I'll stand here and spew love songs and sickeningly saccharine poetry while you all weep and agree that what my Dad and Lisa have is going to bind them together for life. But that's not reality, people! What's really going to happen is that my Dad is going to be with Lisa until she fucks up. Until she does something that's totally human- she'll make a mistake and then he'll be out of there like his ass is on fire because my Dad doesn't accept imperfections."

"Toby," Daniel's face is red with rage. "Sit _down_."

"Oh, I'm sorry Dad. Am I ruining the wedding? Am I shitting on everything you took so much time and effort to plan?" He asks sarcastically. "Am I fucking up the one thing you actually wanted in life? Because that's what life is, Dad. It's a huge fucking disappointment. So if you haven't learned that yet, you might as well listen to what I have to say for once in your life."

The entire room is shocked into silence as he begins to shout. "Society is teaching us that what we have will never be enough! And so we keep searching and searching and giving up _perfectly good things_ just to get something even better! And when we don't get that, what are we left with? Nothing! And it goes on and on and it never stops and that's all you'll ever see! That's all you'll ever do! People fucking up everything they have just to get something better and it's society oppressing us over and over and we don't have any fucking control of our lives any more than we did before we started! It's a vicious cycle and it goes on and on and on-"

He collapses to the ground and tears begin to roll down his cheeks. "It's never ending. There's no escape. You're stuck in the pits of hell and you can't get out."

Spencer doesn't know what to do. She glances around at all the tables, at all of her boyfriend's dumbstruck relatives, and stands without knowing what her next move is going to be. It turns out she ends up crouching beside him and laying a tentative hand on his back. "Toby…"

Everyone's watching. Toby glances at her, still crying, and says, "Everything's ruined. It's wrong. It's all wrong. And I can't fix it; there's nothing I can do to fix it."

"It'll be all right," Spencer rubs his back a little. "It'll get better. I promise."

There's a shadow looming over them a moment later and when Spencer glances up, it's Daniel, frustration evident on his face. "That's it. I'm committing him."

Spencer frowns, her hands shaking with fear. Daniel shakes his head. "Enough is enough."

* * *

He doesn't go easily. They pump him with sedatives the moment Daniel brings him to the sanitarium for evaluation because he's belligerently angry and spewing venom with every word he says. When they see him again, he's wearing a bright white hospital jump suit and it's almost like he's in prison. Spencer's heart gives a tug when she realizes he basically is. Daniel claps his son on the back and that's it; he doesn't say anything, he doesn't do anything, he doesn't even embrace him. He steps back and signs some paperwork and it's just the two of them, just Spencer and Toby, and he looks at her through his hazy fog of medication and she can literally feel her heart breaking in her chest.

His gaze is apologetic and she can't get the words out to tell him it's not his fault, that he has no control over himself right now. So instead, she offers him what his own flesh and blood could not- a hug. Her arms are tight around his neck and she kisses his collarbone and his shoulder and his neck as his arms move slowly but purposefully around her as well. The jumpsuit smells like harsh medical bleach and it's rough to the touch, but it isn't masking his natural scent and that more than anything is a comfort to her in the rough times that follow. Spencer can sense the awaiting nurse is growing impatient with her, but she would rather be shot down right here, right now, than leave him alone in this place.

"I'm sorry," She whispers a moment later. "I'm sorry this is happening to you. It's just for a couple of days, okay? And I'm going to come visit you as soon as they'll let me."

He doesn't do or say anything to acknowledge that he's heard her, but Spencer honestly hadn't expected him to. The nurse taps irritably on her clipboard and Spencer pulls back just a bit to press a chaste kiss to his lips. "I love you."

And then he's led away from her and watching him disappear down that long hallway that's much too clean and much too bright is the hardest thing she's ever had to do. She feels tears sting at her eyes and she turns to ask Daniel a question, but realizes blankly that he's already gone. She wants to believe that it's because he can't bear to watch this a second time in his life and not because he doesn't care, because he's impatient, because he just wants it to be over so he can move on with his own life. But Spencer's no fool; Spencer knows the truth. Instead, she barely makes it to her own car before dialing the first number she sees on her phone and unloading every sob-filled feeling this afternoon's events had brought her. Poor Emily gets an earful.

It's a 72-hour evaluation and after the first 24, he's allowed visitors. Spencer's there the moment the sun rises and thank God her birthday had passed a week earlier, because no minors are allowed in the psych ward. She sits in a hard plastic waiting room chair, her legs jittery and her hands drumming on her knees as she awaits her boyfriend's presence. To her surprise, Daniel appears about twenty minutes after she does and she wonders if her jaw is hanging open in shock, because he catches her staring and shoots her a look. They're led into a back room used for visitation and in mere moments, Toby's brought to them. He has a dazed, faraway look in his eye and he moves slowly towards the couch beside them, his movements fluid and dreamlike but not at all like his regular self.

Spencer embraces him the moment she sees him, but his arms hang limply at his sides. It doesn't deter her. "Hi. I missed you."

He sits beside her, but is still staring off into space. Daniel nods towards him, sitting back against the wall. "Son. You're looking better already."

Spencer eyes him as if he's the one who's gone crazy. She doesn't know what Daniel sees in his son, but this is _not_ her Toby. Her Toby was vibrant and loving and gentle. Her Toby put everyone before himself, even when it wasn't necessary, even when he shouldn't have. Her Toby used to hold her and kiss her and make her feel like the most important girl in the world. Her Toby used to tell her that he loved her and when he did, everything in his visage would soften and intensify at the same time, the magnitude of their love unyielding. But this isn't him. Whatever medication they'd given him had done nothing but mute any part of her Toby that was still in there, banging on the doors, begging to be freed. This catatonic, almost lifeless version of her boyfriend is not at all reassuring and if this is their way of fixing him, she wants a second opinion.

She takes his hand, caresses the back with her thumb, and promises, "Two more days, Toby, okay? And then you'll go home and you'll start to get better. And I'll help. I'll always be there. I promise."

He doesn't say anything the entire visit. He barely even looks in her direction. She's not surprised. He's in a fog and nothing, not even her strong-willed promises or her soothing touch, can bring him out of it. When he stands to go, she kisses him lightly and says, "I'll see you soon, okay? I love you."

He ambles down the hallway and a doctor catches their attention. "Mr. Cavanaugh? I have news on your son's diagnosis."

Daniel sighs. He'd obviously been expecting this part and it dawns on Spencer that this is perhaps the real reason he came. "Come on, Spencer. You might as well hear this too."

* * *

_Bipolar disorder. Acute mania. Mild psychosis._

It burns. The diagnosis burns and burns and every word hits her like acid, but she doesn't know why. This is what she'd been expecting, right? This is what she'd feared from the moment he first stepped inside those hospital doors. It's inevitable that he'd follow in his mother's footsteps, that he'd assume her disease as though he were recreating it for his father. She doesn't know why it hurts so incredibly badly until she does. Marion hadn't had anyone in her corner; Daniel had all but given up on her the moment the prognosis was read and Toby, though he loved his mother dearly, hadn't been old enough to understand and so she slipped through the cracks and out of their lives. And it terrifies Spencer to the ends of the earth to think that someday, that could be Toby, in one of his all-time lows, ending his life.

But no, no, she'd never let that happen. Because unlike his mother, Toby has a significant other who legitimately cares about his wellbeing and will be there until the bitter end. The doctor assures Spencer that with his daily cocktail of medication, his illness is as manageable as the common cold. If he keeps up with his pills, he'll go on with his life as though he's as normal as she is and no one will ever know that he's bipolar. The doctor warns that he'll be a little moody until his body gets used to the regimen, that he'll sleep a lot, that he'll probably reject the medication until he gets into a routine. But like everything, it just takes time and Spencer loves him so much that she'll give him all the time in the world.

The 72 hours are up and Spencer tells Daniel she'll pick Toby up and tries to ignore the burning hatred she feels at the relief in his voice when he accepts. He's back in his jeans and t-shirt and Spencer grins when she sees him despite everything that's going wrong. Under his arm he's got a Ziploc bag full of orange plastic containers and when they get inside her car he pops three of them as he's supposed to and swallows them dry. Spencer talks endlessly the entire ride home, trying to fill the silence with positivity despite the fact that it's so hard to be found, these days. She asks if he's hungry- she'll easily stop at the Grille or the Brew for food, if he likes- but he doesn't reply. She asks if he's cold- she'll turn up the heat and her car's got the fancy seat warmers, now- but he doesn't respond. When she pulls up to his house, Toby tenses and for the first time in almost a week, she hears his voice.

"Can we go to your place?" He asks timidly, his voice gravelly. "I don't want to go home right now."

Her eyes are wide at the prospect of him speaking and she's pretty sure she'd jump off a bridge if he told her to, just because he'd spoken words to her. "Yeah. Yeah, let's go."

There's no one home when they pull into her driveway and she's glad, because she hadn't been able to explain everything that's going on with Toby to her family, so she hadn't told them anything at all. They ascend the stairs quietly to her bedroom and when they get there he slips off his shoes, his jeans and his t-shirt and climbs into her bed. He's passed out in moments and Spencer isn't sure whether to be worried or be placated that at least when he's asleep, he's free from his demons. She completes some homework and calls the girls to fill them in on what's going on and even makes dinner in the time that Toby sleeps. None of her family members come home and she should be concerned, but all of her concern is reserved for Toby. She can't bear to spare anymore.

Around eleven o'clock, Spencer showers and readies herself for bed and when she reenters her bedroom, she finds Toby's wide-awake and staring at the ceiling. Her heart pounds in her chest as she remembers all the times she's found him exactly like this and momentarily she panics that all the sleep had rendered him inert once more. However, he glances over at her and shoots her the faintest of smiles and that action alone is enough to set her world right again. She comes to sit on the bed right as he pops the cap on all three of the medication containers, downing one of each with the glass of water she'd left him hours ago. After, he slides back against the pillow again and she turns off the light so they're bathed in darkness.

It's quiet for so long, Spencer's sure he's fallen asleep again. But after a while, he speaks softly. "I'm not my Mom."

Spencer shakes her head wildly. "No, you're not. I know that."

"No. I'm _not_ my Mom," Toby insists. "My Mom got _really_ bad. She'd scream and curse us out and throw things. She once took an entire bottle of Xanax because my father forgot to bring home the dry cleaning. She used to cut herself and blame it on the demons forcing her to release sacrifices… It didn't make any sense. And she'd cry and cry and… It's because she didn't take her pills. She never did or she'd take them sporadically or she'd take too many at one time."

Spencer remains silent. She hadn't known the details and now she knows why. "It killed me and my Dad and… I'm not going to do that to you. I want to get better. I _have_ to get better."

"You will," Spencer nods. "You'll get better. It'll be really hard at first, but… It'll get better."

"I'm sorry," He then says. "I'm so sorry."

"Toby," Her voice breaks. "You don't have anything to be sorry for."

"I'm putting you through a _lot_," He disagrees. "And it's okay if… If you don't want to do it anymore. I'll understand."

"This doesn't change anything," Spencer tells him. "With our relationship, I mean. You are still the same person you always have been and I can see that. I've always seen it, even when you didn't believe it yourself. I'm going to be here for you through all of this. The good, the bad… We'll get through it, okay? I promise."

Tentatively, he curls an arm around her torso and she snuggles in as close as she can. He inhales a deep breath and murmurs, "I love you."

And she thinks of all the times he's said it before, all the times he hadn't, all the times his demons got in the way, and grows teary-eyed. "I love you, too."


	5. we drank champagne

**Good morning, good morning! How are you all doing today? Hopefully well. I realize I am updating on April Fool's Day and I promise this is not a joke nor is it a fake chapter that I'm going to replace with a real one. As much as I don't like this chapter- and as many times as I rewrote it- this is for realsies, guys. I hope the next few are better received because this one... meh.**

**Today's chapter title comes from "Candyman" by Christina Aguilera (bringing you back a few years, right?) and the AU we find ourselves in now is another time period. And guess what? This was really, really hard to write lol. Harder than I ever expected. So if it sucks, that's why. No, I know it sucks. So that's why. Thanks for all your magnificent reviews on the last chapter and if you don't enjoy this one, no worries. There's fifteen more on their way. :P**

* * *

we drank champagne and we danced all night

The crash of '29 hits the Hastings family hard. Gone are the lavish social gatherings, the wine with every meal, the finest furnishings and clothing for all occasions and in their place, a harsh scarcity sets in that leaves them hungry, desirous, lacking. Hoover boasts about the stability of the United States' economy and promises a fix within the next sixty days, but months and months later, they're still feasting on crusts of bread and broth for dinner in an effort to save as much as they can. Peter feels as though it's his fault; that being the sole breadwinner for his family and then losing everything so quickly is a sign that he isn't suited enough to be a husband and father. He feels this so strongly, he puts a pistol in his mouth and leaves his wife and two daughters behind; _every man for himself_.

Winters come and melt into springs, summers bring intense heats and falls bring the reminder that it hasn't gotten better and doesn't appear to be any time soon. Veronica applies for city relief in April one year and gets put on the waiting list. When she complains, when she argues that her husband is dead and she's solely raising two children, she gets bumped to the end of the list and told that women should not dare to raise their voices in such a tone, that one more outburst like that and she'd be looking at the cool walls of a prison cell. Times are hard, harder than they had ever been, and some begin to get desperate. Melissa runs off and marries a man twice her age, a World War veteran, simply because Congress had recently mentioned the Bonus Bill, which would ensure some pay. The bill falls through and Melissa's trapped in a loveless marriage with no financial security.

Franklin Delano Roosevelt seems to be the answer to their prayers and he immediately gets to work, setting up the Emergency Banking Act and reaching out to the public in his fireside chats. Social Security establishes itself and it seems, for once, that things are beginning to look up. Veronica waits by the radio day in and day out to hear that once and for all, this horrible Depression is finally through, but it never comes while she's alive. She passes away just after the turn of '36, dying of heartache and abandonment and loss of hope. And so, it's just Spencer, just orphaned, sister-less Spencer, sitting in the remains of her giant house at the young age of twenty, waiting for things to be different. It isn't like her father left her anything when he'd selfishly left them years ago and she can't just go out secure employment; even if the economy was secure and jobs were easy to find, women are expected to know their place and the workplace simply isn't it.

In the fall of '39, Spencer treks outside the city to an orchard her parents used to take her and Melissa to when they were little girls. She brings basket after basket and picks apple after apple before heading back into the city and setting up camp. Five cents apiece will get a lucky patron one of the most crisp, juicy pieces of fruit the entire state of Pennsylvania has to offer. Spencer watches as people on the street glance at her and then pass her by and she's sure they're shooting her looks of pity, for this has to be the most desperate she has ever been. She can't help herself; she's twenty-three and the Depression has been raging on for ten years. Every day she hopes for a sign that it's going to improve and every day she's let down, because somehow, it always gets worse.

Two young men are walking her way, now, dressed in corduroys and button-downs, talking animatedly to one another. Spencer adjusts her sign and croons, "Apples! Five cents apiece! Juicy, red, and delicious!"

The men stop and the one with the longer hair grins at her. "Now what's a pretty girl like you doing out here selling apples? You'll catch your death of cold in this weather."

Spencer shakes her head and adjusts her threadbare sweater. "Oh, I don't mind the weather. Helps me sell more apples."

The other man smiles. "How so?"

"It's fall and the weather is cool," Spencer explains. "It's nostalgic; reminds people of when they could bake pies with their families and toss a ball around. Well, times are rough, but one taste of these apples and it'll bring them right back."

The first man chuckles and nods. "That's smart. Business ideas like that could remedy this Depression, you know."

She grins. "I'm trying. It's hard to hold the fort down all on my own."

"What's your name, love?"

"Spencer," She replies cordially. "Spencer Hastings."

"Spencer Hastings?" The tall man removes his cap and says, in shock, "It's me. Toby Cavanaugh. From primary school- do you remember?"

He's a bit dirtier and a bit more hardened than she last saw him, but she can see the boyish blue eyes and remembers them from a time that's long since passed. "We sat beside each other."

"We did," Toby exclaims. "Wow, it's been, what? Ten years?"

"More than," Spencer nods. "We had that snowstorm back in '27 and school was closed and when it opened again, you never came back."

"I started over at the mill," Toby informs her. "But then that burned down and Caleb, here, got me a place over at the factory on 87th. The work's no good and the pay's even worse, but it keeps me busy."

"Caleb, yes, that's me," The man with the longer hair offers Spencer his hand. "Toby's forgotten his manners. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"You as well," She smiles, shaking his hand. "This was so unexpected; such a pleasant surprise. I have to admit- it's been rather lonely around here lately."

"I'll say," Toby agrees. "Times are so tough, people are beginning to forget who they are."

"Not to mention the storms brewing overseas," Caleb puts in. "It's only a matter of time before we get involved. I just pray it's not like the last time."

Spencer nods. "And the last thing we need over here is to be dishing out money we don't have for a war we can't afford, at least not right now, anyway."

"Well, we've got to be back," Toby motions over his shoulder. "Our lunch hour is almost up. But it was really good to see you again."

"Yes," Spencer agrees. "You, too. Stop by anytime."

He hesitates and when Caleb moves to continue walking down the street, Toby then says, "But of course I can't go without getting one of your specialty apples."

She chuckles. "They're not so special, I'm afraid. Just your regular, run-of-the-mill red delicious. Five cents each."

"Here's ten," Toby hands her a dime and grabs two from the top, tossing one to Caleb. Both of them chomp into their fruit and looks of utter bliss come over their faces. "Oh Spencer, I think you're mistaken. This is just about the best apple I've ever tasted."

"You're right," Caleb agrees. "It tastes just like fall."

"I'm going to tell all the guys at the factory," Toby promises. "And soon, you'll have a line down the block. You'll run out. You'll have people talking for miles about how delicious these are."

"I think that's just a bit of an overstatement," She grins. "They're not even really mine. I've picked them from an orchard upstate."

"Don't let people in on your secret," Caleb hushes her. "Then we'll all be doing it."

The three share a laugh before Toby laments, "We really must be going. But we'll talk soon?"

"Please," She nods. "I would like that."

"Yes," He smiles at her. "So would I."

He begins to make her apple stand a daily stop on his way back from lunch. He doesn't fail to remember to tell all his friends and coworkers about the stand, either; soon enough, Spencer has enough customers to last the whole day and she begins to save her money instead of instantly having to spend it. Things begin to look up; businesses begin to slowly rebuild and the Lend-Lease Act is passed and it's all anyone can talk about for miles. The economy is still a bit of a mess, but Rome wasn't built in a day and all that. Spencer begins to get to know Toby better and she finds herself drawn to his witty personality and his charm above all other things. He makes her laugh, makes her forget all the troubles these terrible years have brought upon her, and brightens her day just by showing up.

The winter comes in, brings snow and ice, and then melts slowly as the New Year kicks off a brand new decade. The year passes quickly and when Spencer looks back on it, she can barely remember anything even mildly significant occurring, other than the fact that she and Toby continue to grow closer despite the trying times attempting to divide them. It's December sixth of '41 that really jumpstarts everything she'd remember for the rest of her life. Toby invites her to a party, one celebrating Caleb's twenty-fifth birthday, and Spencer hesitates because she doesn't quite know how to say no. She doesn't go to parties, not ever, and maybe it's because she isn't the partying type or maybe it's because no one's ever invited her to one before. But Toby pleads with her- she never does anything for herself, she should come and let loose, come on, Spencer, it's going to be a lot of fun- and she's already proven in these last two years that she's more or less helpless to deny him.

He picks her up at eight and escorts her to a venue downtown, some place they're borrowing for the evening, with or without the owner's permission. Spencer wishes Caleb a happy birthday the moment she sees him and he thanks her warmly, a blonde bombshell on his arm he introduces as Hanna. They talk for a moment or two before someone else calls out to Caleb and he excuses himself politely. There's music and dancing and it's all very loud and exciting, but Spencer doesn't quite know what to do. She'd been on her own for years and she hadn't ever done anything even remotely like this before. She imagines this is what her sister's life looks like- parties and glamour and fun- but she can't allow herself to dwell too much, because under the desperation in which Melissa had gotten married, none of this ever came to mind.

Toby notices her silence almost instantly and asks, "Are you alright?"

"Yes," She nods quickly. "This is… very nice."

He eyes her, knowing, as he does, these are not exactly her true feelings. "You really think so?"

"Well…" She trails off a moment. "It's just a lot to handle."

Toby nods, understanding. "Is this your first party?"

"No," She says too hastily and then frowns. "Yes. Maybe. I just haven't the option before."

"It's alright," Toby shrugs. "They're not anything to stress over. Drink, dance, have a good time… That's all."

"You dance?" Spencer eyes him warily and he chuckles.

"Not very well," He replies sheepishly. "But I will try my best for your sake."

"Well, I guess that's all a girl can truly ask for," Spencer grins. "You sure you don't need any help?"

"I never go out there without some liquid courage," Toby shakes his head, securing two flutes of champagne from a tray beside them and offering her one. He takes a swig and cringes, shaking his head. "Awful stuff. But it gets the job done."

Spencer takes a sip too and once she's swallowed, she laughs. "Awful? That was entirely pleasant. It tasted like… Like fireworks."

"Fireworks?" He exclaims. "Now there's an interesting idea."

"I'm serious," She grins, drinking some more. "It is. It's like the fourth of July contained in a bottle."

"Well, I guess it isn't too terrible," Toby says, drinking a bit more. "It does make the occasion a bit fancier."

"I'm sure that was Caleb's intention all along," Spencer agrees.

They end up drinking three flights each and when they're giggling tipsily, Toby offers her his hand. "May I have this dance?"

She grins. "Why of course you may."

The band up front is playing an excitingly hot melody and whatever Spencer was expecting when they stepped onto the dance floor is completely blown out of the water. Toby's a much better dancer than he had claimed to be and she's thanking her lucky stars her mother had sent her to finishing school, or else she'd be the one looking like an inexperienced fool. They step in time, spin and move rhythmically together, and he's twirling her around and around like the ballerina she never became. Her entire body is filled with a bubbly giddiness, a sort of bliss she's never felt before and she's sure it isn't coming from the champagne. The look in his eyes is so warm and kind and she suddenly feels dizzy, overcome with emotion.

She places a hand on his chest. "I'm a bit faint. Maybe we should stop spinning… It's from all the spinning."

Toby braces her, steadies her. "We have stopped spinning."

And then she realizes it's him and she wonders why she hadn't noticed before and when he bends to connect their lips she doesn't try to stop him. Instead, she weaves her arms around his neck, bringing him closer, and he responds in earnest, his hands coming to grip her waist. The music is still thumping sonorously all around them and there are bottles of champagne being sprayed on rowdy party guests and couples dancing all over the dance floor, but everything seems to have melted away. It's just him and her, just the two of them locked in an embrace that's seemingly endless, and she wants to paradoxically shout it from the rooftops and keep it all to herself, because it's new and it's exciting and it's something she hadn't completely been expecting.

"Spencer Hastings, you have got to be the most beautiful girl I've ever had the grand pleasure of knowing," Toby says when they're through. "And I think that I've fallen quite hard over you."

It feels like her heart is soaring. "Well, I think that it's funny you should feel that way, because I am also definitely falling for you."

He grins and kisses her again before asking, "Do you want to get out of here? Go back to my place, maybe?"

She nods. "Yes, please."

They spend the night kissing and cuddling and caressing, telling each other absolutely everything they can in an effort to not leave anything unsaid. It's incredibly late before they even think about going to bed and when they finally fall asleep, it's with the promise that tomorrow will begin their courtship and that they bear a new meaning to one another. When Spencer awakens hours later, it's much later than she'd planned and she panics momentarily when she realizes she's just spent the night with a man she isn't married to and how would that possibly look to the public? She goes into the kitchen to talk this over with Toby but all thoughts are lost when she sees the look on his face. It's as if he's seen unspeakable horrors, ghosts and terror on his face, and she wants to question him, but the radio he's seated beside answers all her questions before he can.

"… _due to the United States' interference with the Japanese conquest of the Dutch East Indies and Malaya. This just in! Japan bombs Pearl Harbor! Thousands of American lives lost! A military base camp destroyed! Terror and panic in the South Pacific- will they strike again? United States president Franklin Delano Roosevelt confirms that the Americans will do everything in their power to bring justice to a nation in pieces and declares war on Japan…_"

In weeks, the United States is thrown into a Second World War and by February, Toby's been drafted. He doesn't panic when he receives the letter, but he reads it with shaking hands. "I've got to serve my country, Spencer. It's the right thing to do."

Spencer nods tearfully. "I wish it didn't have to be this way. I've only just gotten you and now they're trying to take you away."

"I'm going to fight this," Toby assures her. "We're going to win. And I'll come home to you and we'll get married and have lots of babies. We'll be together then."

A few tears spill over her cheeks. "That sounds nice."

"Wait," Toby then thinks. "Why wait until then? Let's get married now."

"What?" Spencer exclaims. "Have you gone and lost your mind?"

"Spencer, I love you," Toby confesses. "And there's no better time. When I get back, we can start our life together."

Her heart is pounding, but she finds herself grinning anyway. "Okay. Okay, I love you, too. Let's get married."

It's a popular sentiment right before the draft and they are not the only ones at the courthouse, but they sign the papers, they have a very unofficial ceremony, and then they're husband and wife. Days go by of marital bliss and they're cut far too short for Spencer's liking. The morning of his flight overseas, Toby dresses in army green, a knapsack over his back, and the two travel silently to the airstrip where they would inevitably part ways. She can only go so far and he holds out his arms for her to fall into them, which she does with all the ferocity of a bull. Clinging to him and pressing a kiss anywhere she can reach, Spencer tries desperately to think of anything but his departure, especially because, considering the death toll on the last war, this could easily be their final goodbye.

"You be safe," She demands. "Do anything you have to in order to protect yourself, alright?"

"Alright," He nods his agreement. "I'll write you. Everyday."

"I'll write back," She promises. "I love you."

"And I love you," Toby tells her. "And no matter what happens and when things get hard, you remember that."

She watches the giant aircraft carrier soar into the big blue sky. And she does.


	6. think of all the joy you'll find

**Good morning friends! Thank you for not hating the last chapter even if I still do haha. You all seemed to really like it and I don't totally understand it, but I appreciate it all the same. This one's long as hell and it was originally the longest one, but I just finished number 12 and holy shit, I need to learn how to shut up lol. Needless to say, some of these really, _really_ got away from me. But I doubt you'll complain about length; if I've sucked you in this far, you're in it for the long haul, right? :P**

**Today's chapter title comes from "You Can Fly! You Can Fly! You Can Fly!" from- where else? Peter Pan. The AU we find ourselves in today is family trip to Disney and it's a topic near and dear to my heart, considering I work at Disney World. Also, I used the same default family I introduced you to in "I'll set the table" and also in "Love is..." because I'm weak and I missed writing them. Don't judge me. But please enjoy! Or don't; that's up to you. :P Thanks again!**

* * *

think of all the joy you'll find when you leave the world behind

"Okay," Spencer nods with finality, licking the edge of the envelope and sealing it shut. "I think we're ready to do this."

"We're doing this," Toby says. "We're really doing this."

"Toby, now's not the time to back out of this," Spencer teases. "We've put way too much time, effort and money in to call it quits now."

He grins. "Shall I call in the troops?"

She agrees. "I'm ready for them."

"Wait!" Toby pauses suddenly. "The camera! We're going to film this for the family!"

"And become YouTube famous?" Spencer jokes. "I think we can handle that."

Toby slips the strap around his wrist and nods. "Okay, _now_ we're ready. Let's do this."

He focuses the camera, turns it on, and calls, "_Kids! _Breakfast! Come on, come on! Rise and shine!"

One by one, the Cavanaugh children come creeping from the depths of the upper level of the home, bleary-eyed and still recuperating from their harsh awakening so early in the morning. Six-year-old Lilly comes first, her soft, chestnut brown hair in knotted tangles at the ends, her nightgown swishing as she hops onto a stool at the counter. She yawns and there's sleep in her eyes, telling each of her parents that she's barely awake. Their four-year-old comes next; Henry comes barreling down the stairs, a bundle of energy always, and slips on the hardwood floors, banging his knee on the edge of the wall. He's still grinning despite the sound it makes and tries his best to climb up next to his sister.

"Two and three," Spencer notes, helping her son up into the chair. "Where's one?"

"She's right here," Twelve-year-old Grace whines as she comes around the corner from the foyer. "Wondering why we have to be up this early on _vacation_."

"It's not vacation yet," Toby reminds her as she sits at the kitchen table. "You have one more day of school before fall break."

"Yeah, but today totally doesn't even count," Grace counters. "I could skip and just start early. We have an assembly and then some dumb team building activity. I don't need to be there for that."

"But you're going to be," Toby says. "So it's best to go into it with a positive attitude."

"Daddy," Henry asks. "Why is your camera out?"

"Oh," Toby shrugs. "I guess I forgot to put it away."

"Mommy," Lilly pleads. "Can I have hot chocolate? I'm cold."

"It is cold, Lilly," Spencer agrees. "Too cold for October. I think this weekend it's going to snow."

"I'm not ready for that," Toby shakes his head. "Hey, what do you say we head somewhere warmer for the week?"

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Spencer agrees. "We should take a vacation."

"Yay! Vacation!" Henry cheers and then bursts into giggles. Lilly joins in. Grace smiles.

"Guys, we're serious," Toby chuckles. "We're going on vacation."

"Wait, really?" Lilly wonders. "You're serious?"

"So serious."

"Where are we going?"

"Well, that's up to you to find out," Spencer says. "Daddy and I made a little game for you guys to figure out where we're going this week."

"Oh my god, like a puzzle?" Grace shrieks. "I _love_ puzzles!"

"I wanna play! I wanna play!" Henry hops up and down and almost tumbles from his chair.

Toby catches him before he can go careening to the floor. "Careful, Hen. Okay, it's a scavenger hunt. We have clues hidden all over the house. So Grace, you and Lilly can read the different clues and we need all of you to work together to find them and put them in order."

"Okay!" Grace grins, fully awake now. "Where's the first one?"

"Somewhere in this room," Spencer answers nonchalantly. "You may or may not have already seen it."

Lilly and Henry scramble down from their perch and join Grace in the search for the first clue. There's an envelope tucked away in the napkin holder on the kitchen table and Grace pumps her fist in the air in success. She lets Henry open it and then begins to read, "_First things first- we booked our trip. Should we go by car, by plane or by ship?_"

"What does that mean?" Henry asks. "Where are we going?"

"We don't know yet," Grace laughs. "Okay… Where would they book the trip?"

"The computer room!" Lilly shouts excitedly.

"Yes!" Grace nods and they're off, their parents trailing behind them, camera at the ready.

It takes mere moments in their computer room for them to find the folder with their plane tickets and the envelope with the next clue. It's Lilly's turn to read and after Henry's torn the envelope to shreds, she says, "_We've got our plane, we're off together! Before we go, should we check the weather?_"

"The weather?" Henry wonders. "Where are we going?"

"Someone's impatient," Toby chuckles. "That's what you have to figure out, buddy."

"Okay, to check the weather you can use the TV, right?" Grace figures. "Or like the newspaper."

"The newspaper is in the living room," Lilly says. "So is the TV! Let's go!"

They race across the house and instead of using the television, there's a printout on the coffee table, folded in half. It's from the weather channel and it's the ten-day outlook for Orlando, Florida. Henry shrieks, "We're going to Florida?"

"Guess so," Spencer shrugs. "But that can't be the end- there's another clue over there."

Grace reads, "_You've figured it out! But wait, there's more! Why don't you see who's at the door?_"

"The doorbell didn't even ring," Lilly says and her mother laughs.

"Maybe it's magic," She tells her.

"I wanna open it!" Henry calls when they reach the envelope taped to the back of the front door. As he does so, Toby's prepared with the camera and Spencer reaches for the handle, poised and ready for action.

"_Pack your bags and do it quickly,_" Lilly reads. "_We're going to see our old friend Mickey_."

There's a pause as the kids try and decide whether or not their parents are playing a trick on them, but then Spencer opens the front door to reveal three suitcases with Disney balloons tied to the handles and it's clear this is no joke. Grace's eyes are wide when she asks, "We're going to Disney World?"

"We're going to Disney World!" Toby confirms and then the madness begins.

Henry begins running around the house like a crazy person, screaming "Disney World! Disney World!" over and over and over again like a mantra he never wants to forget. Grace starts hopping up and down, flailing and spinning in a dizzying manner, and when Henry runs past her she lifts him into the air and they twirl around and around, laughing together joyously. Lilly begins to cry. Spencer notices, bewildered, and asks, "Oh, honey. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Lilly shakes her head, wrapping her arms around her mother's neck. "I'm so excited."

"These are happy tears?" Spencer asks, rubbing her back and she feels the little girl nod.

"I'm so happy," Lilly confirms. "Thank you, Mommy. Thank you, Daddy."

"Sweetheart, you're welcome," Spencer kisses her cheek and feels tears spring in her own eyes. She hadn't expected this kind of reaction.

Locking eyes with Toby, she can tell he feels the very same. He switches the camera off and kneels beside his wife and youngest daughter, capturing both of them in his strong arms. "You're going to get to see Mickey and Minnie and all of the princesses."

Lilly nods tearfully, a watery smile on her face. Grace stops dancing around momentarily to ask, "When are we going?"

"Now," Spencer answers, standing and taking Lilly with her. "Seriously. Right now."

"Yeah, we weren't kidding when we were hurrying you earlier," Toby says. "Eat some breakfast. Our bags are already packed and in the car. Our flight's in two hours."

"Now?" Henry implores in shock. "We're going now?"

"We're going _right_ now," Toby repeats. "Disney, here we come!"

The kids don't eat a single bite; they're far too excited to do anything but titter on anxiously about their trip. Somehow, their parents manage to usher them upstairs to dress but even then, the kids cannot contain their enthusiasm, racing back and forth to one another's bedroom half-dressed, remembering different things they're going to get to do. Finally, they're on their way to the airport and once they're through security, Spencer gets the three of them to eat just a bit as they wait at the terminal for their flight. Lilly and Henry are listening with anxious gusto as Grace tells them all about the time she went to Disneyland, a lifetime ago when they were just a family of three, living in Paris. And before long, they're airborne, flying high in the sky over their tiny little town below.

In mere hours, they arrive in Orlando and the second they land, all three kids are expecting to see Disney everywhere. They get their wish; there's a Disney store right outside the security gates and advertisements all over the walls detailing different attractions and must-sees. Upon claiming their baggage, Disney's Magical Express is awaiting them and they climb aboard the bus in wonder, for even the bus driver is wearing white Mickey gloves. It's a short, twenty-minute drive to the Walt Disney World resort, and Mickey and Minnie are there to greet them as they drive beneath the majestic archway, welcoming them in. In moments, they pull up to Bay Lake Tower at the Contemporary Resort, their home away from home for the next week.

They spend a while just racing around their two-bedroom villa, getting as acquainted as they can with their surroundings. It's Lilly who notices it first; Spencer and Toby are on the balcony, content enough just to enjoy the eighty-degree weather that's so different from home and when Lilly comes out to join them, she shrieks in excitement. From their balcony, they can see the Magic Kingdom and looming over Magic Kingdom is none other than Cinderella Castle. Once this is brought to the others' attention, they beg to visit immediately and what's a vacation if they simply spent it all in the hotel? They head out on their adventure; it's just a short monorail ride into the park and once they've stopped for a few family photos, the world is their oyster.

They remain for dinner, for the Electrical Parade and for Wishes, the nighttime fireworks spectacular. But half a day's worth of activities isn't enough to satisfy them. They're ready for more.

* * *

On their second day, a phone call to their hotel room awakens the children bright and early and when they answer, it's from their good friend Mickey Mouse inviting them to have breakfast with him and all his friends. They dress quickly and venture into the main building towards Chef Mickey's, a breakfast buffet with Mickey, Minnie, Pluto, Donald and Goofy. It's not only delicious, but a great way to meet all their favorite characters without having to wait in the longer lines at the different parks. Upon seeing their "First Visit!" pins, Mickey claps excitedly for them and gives each of them a hug in welcome. Minnie and Lilly twirl together, their skirts flying, Goofy hides Grace's fork and makes her eat her waffles with a spoon and Pluto sniffs Henry's ear and licks his cheek, sending the little boy into a fit of giggles. At the end of their meal, Toby and Spencer have about a hundred photos, but thousands of memories.

Their plan for the day is Animal Kingdom and once they've eaten all they can, they head downstairs for the bus stop. As they're walking into the park, Lilly slips her hand into her father's and asks, "Daddy, what kind of animals are we going to see?"

"I don't know. I've never been here before," Toby tells her. "A bunch of different ones, probably."

"I hope we see dragons," Henry says and Grace smirks.

"Henry, dragons aren't even real," She replies. "You can't see something that's made up."

"I don't know about dragons, Hen, but how about dinosaurs?" Spencer suggests. "Should we start in Dinoland U.S.A?

"Yeah!" He shouts. "They don't breathe fire like dragons do but they're still cool."

They ride TriceraTop Spin and Primeval Whirl and even try their hands at a few of the carnival games before heading in the direction of the area's main attraction, Dinosaur. Henry's just tall enough to ride and so all five of them head into the Dino Institute and learn all about their top secret mission to bring an iguanodon back from the Cretaceous period. Toby's sitting up front with the two girls and Spencer's in the middle with Henry, who's more excited than she's ever seen him. But what starts out as an innocent ride through the jungle turns into a choppy sprint through the darkness, with asteroids threatening them at every turn, dinosaurs popping out from behind rocks to eat them alive, and trees falling in their path, blocking their exit. Fog and strobe lights signal the end of the ride, with a frantic voice shouting, "_They're not gonna make it! They're not gonna make it!_"

The car slows as it approaches the unload dock and Henry's crying when he asks, "Is it over? Is it over yet?"

"It's over, baby," Spencer promises, her arms still tucked protectively around him. "It's all over."

Their seatbelts unclick and he sits up straight, wiping his eyes. "I wanna do it again."

She stares at him in shock and Lilly turns in her seat, her face pale. Spencer asks, "You want to do it again, Lil?"

She shakes her head adamantly. Grace comments, "That was fun. I'll do it again."

Toby puts in, "That is… not at all what I expected."

They climb out and exit through the gift shop, stopping just a moment to catch a glimpse of their ride photo. It's pretty classic; Toby's holding on for dear life, Lilly's got both hands over her eyes and Grace's mouth is open, mid-scream. Spencer's holding onto her son and Henry is buried so deep into his mother's side, he's barely visible. Despite the fear it had brought out in them, the kids find themselves giggling at their faces in the photo and talk of nothing else as they leave the area. On their way to Asia, they stop by and catch the one o'clock production of Finding Nemo: the Musical and leave with the catchy tunes stuck in their heads. Screams are emanating from a tall mountain before them and within minutes, they're standing before Expedition Everest- Legend of the Forbidden Mountain.

Grace has already proved herself an adrenaline junkie and she's buzzing with excitement. "If I don't go on this, I'll just die."

"Okay, calm down there, Dramatic One," Spencer teases. "Henry's too short to ride so one of us is going to have to stay out here with him. Lilly, what are you thinking?"

She shakes her head and presses closer to her father. "I don't want to go on this one."

"I'll stay out here with them," Toby says. "You go with Grace."

"Alright, it's you and me, Mom," Grace squeals. "Are you ready for this?"

"Are you kidding?" Spencer jokes. "I was born ready."

It's a ten-minute wait through a long queue detailing different mountain exhibitions and neither confirming nor denying the presence of the yeti. Soon, they're strapped into their trains and heading up, up, up into the tallest peak in the world. Everything is going smoothly until they come to a dead stop; the tracks of the train are broken and splintered into the air. Grace giggles and looks around, asking, "Now what happens?"

"Well, we can't go this way," Spencer says. "The only other way is-"

Suddenly the train begins to move backwards and gradually picks up speed, careening back into the deep, dark depths of the mountain. A peculiar shadow of the yeti is before them before they're plunging down, being shot up again and being thrust through a cave where he rests above them, his eyes yellow, his teeth snarling, his arm reaching down to swipe the train from its tracks. With a ferocious roar and a barely-got-away feeling, the ride is over and Grace is already clapping excitedly, saying, "Again. I _have_ to do that again."

"If the wait isn't too long," Spencer promises her. "That was actually pretty great. You should take Dad next time."

When they reunite with the rest of their family, Grace can barely get the words out fast enough. "It goes so fast and it's in the dark and then it's forwards and backwards and forwards and backwards and then you're going down really fast and then it shoots you back up and you think the yeti is there but he's not and then he really is and it's _so much fun_, Dad, you have to do it with me."

"Okay, okay," Toby chuckles. "You've sold me. Let's go."

"That's so cool!" Henry says. "I wanna go too. I wanna see the yeti."

"You're too small," Grace laments and then turns to her sister. "But Lilly…"

The younger girl hesitates. "It sounds scary."

"No, it's totally not," Grace assures her. "You can sit next to me and I'll hold your hand the whole time."

She bites her lip, considering, before saying warily, "Okay."

Grace grabs her hand and the two bound off into line, Toby following behind them. Henry frowns. "I wanna see the yeti."

"Next time we come back," Spencer promises. "You'll be tall enough and you'll get to see him, okay?"

This answer appeases him a moment before he asks, "Mommy, what's a yeti?"

It's beginning to get super hot and when Toby innocently mentions they ride Kali River Rapids, they believe it to be a good idea. They can all ride, there's water involved, and maybe they'll cool off. And cool off they do; the sign outside promises they'll get wet, maybe even soaked, and so, of course, they show up to the Kilimanjaro Safaris completely soaked through like drowned rats. But the twenty-two minutes they spend riding through the African savanna, gazing upon all sorts of animals allows them to dry off just a bit. There aren't any dragons for Henry, but there are many zebras, lions, giraffes, elephants and some animals that are extinct in the wild, like the white rhinos, grazing in the field. They decide to end their day with the Festival of the Lion King and towards the end, Lilly and Henry are chosen to be part of the celebration finale. They shake maracas and march around the theater with the dancers and stilt walkers and when it's all over, Timon thanks all who participated.

"Give yourselves a big hand! Great job!" Timon shouts, pointing to Henry. "Especially you. You were perfect!"

"Lilly," Henry tells his sister as they're returning to their seats. "I'll teach you how to shake it better next time 'cause I did it perfect. Timon said that."

Hungry and a bit crabby, they take the bus back to the Contemporary and grab dinner poolside, the kids stopping every so often to chomp on more of their meal before heading for the waterslide or jumping back into the cool water. Toby and Spencer watch from the deck, in lounge chairs with alcoholic beverages in hand, and think that life can't really get any better than this. The sun is starting to set over Bay Lake and Toby looks at his wife and grins, "Now _this_ is a vacation."

Spencer agrees, clinking their glasses together. "And may it never end."

* * *

Hollywood Studios is their plan for the next day and they wake up a bit later than they'd planned, recuperating from their hectic activities the day prior. But on they go; they window shop on Hollywood Boulevard and watch the street performers trick the crowds with sleight of hand. They take a spectacular journey into the movies on the Great Movie Ride and cheer for Toby as he's picked to be an extra in the Indiana Jones show. Spencer's never laughed harder in her entire life as she does when she's watching Toby act with the other extras and when he's returned to them at the end of the show, the kids surround him in awe and she tells him sweetly not to quit his day job. Next is lunch and Star Tours and MuppetVision 3D. Lights! Motors! Action! follows, a stunt show that Henry's on the edge of his seat for, and once they've finished, they turn the corner onto Pixar Place.

"We have to do this one," Grace points out. "It's Toy Story. Everyone loves Toy Story."

"It also has a sixty-five minute wait," Toby frowns. "We don't happen to have a fastpass, do we?"

"We do, actually, because I did my research and I read that the only way to experience this is to get a fastpass," Spencer told her. "I planned ahead. But it's not until five o'clock."

"What time is it?" Henry asks.

"Two-thirty," Spencer sighs. "Let's go see The Little Mermaid and come back."

Not only do they watch the entire Little Mermaid show, but they also take a trek through One Man's Dream, the museum dedicated to Walt Disney's life and accomplishments. Even still, they find themselves right back outside Toy Story Midway Mania! and now, the wait time is only an hour. Toby jokes, "Hey, it came down five minutes."

"I know this sounds kind of sad," The cast member at the entrance says. "But sixty minutes is low for us."

Spencer's eyebrows rise. "Really?"

"Yeah," She nods. "It's the most popular attraction in Disney World and our average wait time is between seventy and ninety minutes."

Toby shakes his head. "That's crazy. And people wait?"

"Obviously, or the wait time wouldn't be that long," Spencer replies and the cast member laughs. "We have a fastpass for later but they want to do it now."

"Please?" Henry begs. "Please! Please!"

"I don't care if it's an hour," Grace shakes her head. "It's not even that long."

"What is this ride?" Lilly asks and the other four members of her family are stumped. They're about to wait an hour and they don't even know what for.

"Well, it's a ride where you play 3D carnival shooting games," The cast member fills in. "You sit in a game tram and travel through different scenes and in each game, what comes out of your gun is different. Sometimes it's darts, sometimes it's pies, sometimes it's rings… It's a lot of fun. And you're competing with everyone in your whole car to get the highest score."

"Cool," Lilly smiles. "Let's do that. It sounds fun."

"I will do whatever you guys want to do," Toby says. "But you do realize this is a _long_ wait, right? Longer than anything we've waited for so far."

"It's an hour, guys," Spencer says. "It's a little after three-thirty and it'll be way after four once we get out."

"Well then we can use our fastpass and ride twice," Grace reasons. "Come on! Let's just go already!"

"I guess we're doing it," Toby chuckles and the cast member grins.

"If you've never done it before, it's worth the wait." She promises. "Have fun!"

The queue is filled with life-sized toys; the floor is a giant Candyland board, the emergency exit doors are giant playing cards and there's a log cabin that could easily house their family of five up ahead. On the ceiling is a replica of the Chutes and Ladders game board and along the railings of the queue are building blocks and crayons, worn down from Andy's drawings. Toby nudges Spencer the moment he sees it and the two grow nostalgic- a Scrabble game board is up ahead and it brings both of them so many sweet memories. The highlight of the line is about three-quarters of the way through; an animatronic Mr. Potato Head is singing, dancing and telling jokes in an effort to make his audience forget they've been in line so long. Right as they get in front of him, he calls Lilly out.

"Hey young lady."

She glances up at him and points to her chest. "Me?"

"Yes you, in the pink."

Lilly glances down and realizes she's wearing a bright pink tank top. She grins and glances at her parents, who encourage her to respond. "He's talking to you, Lil!"

"I've got a joke for you," Mr. Potato Head croons. "Why did Hamm throw Rex off the dresser?"

Lilly shrugs. "I don't know."

"He wanted to see a dino-soar!" Mr. Potato Head laughs and Lilly and her family join in.

"Thank you, thank you," He says. "I'll be here all week. And judging by how this line is moving, so will you."

At long last, they make it to the front of the ride and get placed into their rows for boarding. Spencer's riding with Lilly and when she glances over at her daughter, she notices she's squirming uncomfortably. She asks, "Lil, you alright?"

She nods, but something's not quite right. "Are you sure? It's not going to be scary, I don't think."

"I'm not scared," She fidgets even more. "It'll be fun."

"Okay," Spencer eyes her warily as they board their vehicle. "You sure you're okay?"

She nods, slips on her 3D glasses, and they're off. It is, as promised, a whole lot of fun; they toss eggs and pies, shoot dinosaur darts and toss rings to infinity and beyond. When they're finished, they're shown the highest score in the vehicle- 182,300- and hear a cheer from behind them; Toby's beaten them all. Henry hops out excitedly and says, "Daddy and I beat all of you!"

"What did you get, Hen?" Spencer asks, tossing her glasses in the receptacle and keeping a close eye on Lilly.

"Um, 24,000," Henry says. "I think."

"I got 145,000," Grace replies. "I was beating Dad, I think, but he beat me in the bonus round."

"That was definitely worth the wait," Toby states. "Lil, what did you get?"

Lilly's still squirming, crossing her legs and standing awkwardly. "Like 60,000."

"Okay, Lil, what is wrong?" Spencer asks again. "Do you need to use the bathroom?"

She nods fiercely and Spencer takes her hand. "I saw one around the corner. Let's go."

"Our fastpass time is in ten minutes," Toby says. "We'll just wait for you here."

It isn't until she's finished and washing her hands that she admits quietly, "I thought I was going to have an accident."

"Lilly, why didn't you tell me?" Spencer softens. Her middle child can be so complacent, so quiet, so willing to bend to other's needs and desires, that she often forgoes her own. "We could've left the line. I would've taken you."

She shrugs. "I didn't want to leave and wait all over again. I didn't want to make you mad."

"Honey, first of all, I'm sure we could've told them out front and they would've let us back in line, where we were," Spencer explains. "And second, that would never make me mad. I care more about you and how you feel than anything else. You know that, don't you?"

She nods, still quiet. Spencer smiles. "You ready to go ride Toy Story again? Maybe if we team up, we can kick Daddy's butt this time."

Lilly grins. "Okay."

Toby does do worse the second time, but he still reigns supreme and retains all the bragging rights for the highest score. There are only two rides left- the Tower of Terror and the Rock 'n Rollercoaster, both of which have Grace super anxious to ride and the rest of them not nearly as excited. Grace manages to con both her father and her sister on Tower of Terror with her and though Toby enjoys it more than he thought he would, Lilly gives it two giant thumbs down. Grace then drags her mother on Rock 'n Rollercoaster, which has enough power in its takeoff to supply the whole ride, but leaves Spencer feeling her age and wondering if her time for high-intensity thrill rides has passed.

They end the night with Fantasmic! and Henry falls asleep on the bus ride home. Grace and Lilly are still talking animatedly about Mickey's dreams and their Toy Story high scores and Toby and Spencer share a look, knowing they'll likely remember this trip for the rest of their lives.

* * *

Epcot is in their cards next and it's just a short monorail ride away from their hotel. Epcot combines the wonder of today with the promise of tomorrow and the moment they get there, they marvel at the giant, beautiful ball that serves as the park's icon. They blast to the past and get a glimpse of their future on Spaceship Earth, get an educational background on harvesting and irrigation on Living with the Land, and discover the big blue world in the Seas with Nemo and Friends. There's a demonstration where the kids get to feed some manatees and everyone takes a turn taking a photo inside Bruce's mouth, pointy sharp teeth aside. They journey into imagination with the purple dragon Figment before returning to The Land to use their fastpasses for Soarin'.

"This is the Toy Story of Epcot," Spencer says. "See that seventy minute wait time?"

"Do we play games in this one too?" Henry asks. "Daddy and I are gonna beat you guys again."

"I don't think there are games on this one, Hen," Toby says. "Looks like we're going for a flight."

"On a plane?" Henry asks. "I don't wanna go home yet."

"I don't want to go home _ever_," Grace amends his statement. "We should just move here."

"Then we can come to Disney all the time!" Lilly shouts. "I bet Cinderella would let us stay in her castle."

"Ooh, that would be nice," Grace agrees. "We could watch the fireworks every night."

"They'd be hard to see from inside the castle," Spencer reasons. "And you'd get sick of this place, eventually."

Grace considers this and shakes her head. "No, I don't think so."

"Me either," Lilly agrees. "I'll never get sick of it."

Once they're strapped into their seats, the lights go out and they're lifted into the air, soaring over California as they fly through mountain ranges, over oceans and across the wide, vast plains of the countryside. They fly over the orange groves and actually smell the oranges and the same occurs as they coast over the pine trees in the forest. Their flight ends right over Disneyland and they become part of the fireworks show just as their feet touch the ground again. It's groundbreaking and a huge hit among the entire family; Lilly asks when they can go to California and Toby tells her that will have to be their next vacation- they're still on this one, after all.

They begin to wander into the World Showcase after that, stopping to watch the Canadian lumberjack show before trailing into the UK and waiting in line to get a picture with Alice and the White Rabbit. As they're passing France and drifting into Morocco, Toby stops a moment and asks, "Wait, wait, where's Henry?"

Spencer turns around, alarmed. "What do you mean? He was back there with you."

"No, Grace is back here with me," Toby says. "Henry wanted to walk in front with you and Lilly."

"Well he's not!" Spencer panics. "Oh my god. Where did he go?"

"He was in our picture with Alice and the White Rabbit," Grace remembers. "And then we walked this way…"

"He's here in France probably," Lilly counters. "Don't be scared, Mommy. We'll find him."

Grace takes Lilly's hand and together, the two girls run all about France searching for their brother. Toby calls his name into the crowd and Spencer's frantically searching the faces of all the little boys who pass and coming up empty. Her heart begins to ache and she realizes she's never been more terrified in all her life. Grace and Lilly return empty-handed, the older girl claiming, "He's not here."

"We have to split up," Spencer says. "We'll retrace our steps and just go back over everything we've done. Maybe he's waiting for us. Oh God, he's alone. He's probably scared and crying. My poor baby."

"Spence, it's going to be fine," Toby assures her. "Look, Lilly and I will stay here in case he comes back. I'll call you if he does. You and Grace head back that way. That's the way we came in."

She nods and Grace takes the lead. The UK is vast, but Henry is nowhere to be found and when they reach Canada, Grace suggests, "Do you think he went back to one of the rides? He really liked Soarin'. Maybe he's waiting for us there."

"Do you want to go check?" Spencer wonders. "We can look. It doesn't hurt."

Spencer waits outside, cell phone clutched in hand, as Grace runs inside. She doesn't receive the call she's waiting for and Grace comes back without him. "He wasn't there either."

"Oh my God," Spencer groans. "I can't believe this is happening. I'm the worst mother on the planet."

"No you're not," Grace shakes her head. "This mom in Kansas put rat poison in her kids' milkshakes. And then this other mom in New Zealand drowned her kids in the bathtub. And _then_ this other mom drove her car off a bridge with her five kids inside."

Spencer eyes her daughter, asking, "How do you know all that?"

"It was on the news. I had to watch for my current events essay last week," Grace shrugs. "What I'm saying is that it's not your fault, Mom. Henry just needs a leash. They have those, you know. Backpacks with leashes for kids."

Despite her current state, this makes Spencer grin. "I don't know how, but you made me feel a little better. Thank you."

"I'm not kidding about the leash, though. He could use one."

"I'll reconsider when we find him," Spencer says, heading back into France as Toby and Lilly come into view. "But thanks for the advice."

"And you're totally not the worst mom," Grace assures her the moment later. "You're actually kind of the best."

Spencer pokes her side. "Only kind of?"

Grace grins as Toby asks, eagerly, "No luck?"

"None," Spencer sighs. "And he didn't show up here?"

"No," Toby frowns. "We've got to tell someone."

"You go tell a cast member, I'm going to go on," Spencer nods towards the next country. "Maybe he went forward thinking that's where we'd be."

"You know," Grace pipes up. "This is going to be a great story to tell him when he's older. Lost in Epcot- the Henry Cavanaugh story."

Lilly giggles. "That sounds like a movie."

Grace nods. "I'd watch it."

And so, they travel on towards Morocco and after only moments between the dust colored walls, they find Henry. He's seated at a table, eating a Mickey bar and coloring a Duffy on a stick, his face covered in chocolate and vanilla ice cream. A kind woman is coloring with him and Henry giggles at something she says a moment later. Spencer is dumbfounded; he isn't crying, he isn't scared, he isn't even the least bit worried. And he's already the most outgoing of her three children, but she'd never expected something like this to happen. He glances up, then, notes his sister and mother staring at him, and waves, splattering ice cream onto the ground and his shorts.

"Hi Mommy, hi Gracie," Henry says calmly. "Look what Nadia gave me- it's a passport! She signed it and said I could get it signed at all the countries!"

"Henry," Spencer falls to her knees and pulls the boy into her arms. "Don't ever scare me like that again."

Grace turns and says, "I'll go get Dad and Lilly."

"Thank you," Spencer offers a hand to the woman she's assuming is Nadia. "Thank you for watching him. He scared the living daylights out of me."

"It's not a problem," The woman nods. "I saw him by himself over there and thought I might give him something to do. He told me he didn't know where his family was when I asked, but I told him not to worry; you would return."

Henry grins at her, his face sticky, and says, "She's nice. She's my friend."

"Okay, honey, but you can't walk away from us like that," Spencer scolds. "Do you want to go home with me, Daddy, Grace and Lilly? Or with someone you don't know?"

"With you," Henry frowns. "I'm sorry."

His lower lip quivers and as usual, this little boy melts her heart. She hugs him again just as Toby and the girls return. "Hen! What were you thinking, bud?"

Henry shrugs and when Spencer releases him, it's Toby's turn to scoop him up. "Seriously, Henry. You're holding my hand until you're eighteen."

"Dad, I was telling Mom," Grace pipes up. "Those backpack-leashes are a good idea."

* * *

The next day is spent at Magic Kingdom doing everything they had missed the first day, which of course includes dreaming along with Mickey in the castle show and taking their picture in front of the majestic castle. The travel from Adventureland to Tomorrowland, taking a jungle cruise, conquering the mountain range, meeting grim grinning ghosts, flying to Neverland with Peter Pan and learning all about the great, big, beautiful tomorrow shining at the end of every day. They fulfill Lilly's hopes and dreams by turning her into a magical princess at the Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique; she's got the hairstyle, the pixie dust, the dress and shoes and even the makeup and nails to make her look just like Belle, her favorite princess. And moments later, it's Henry's turn; he's transformed into a rustic pirate, with the outfit, the hat, the hook and the parrot, perched on his shoulder. They watch the 3 o'clock parade and bask in the Festival of Fantasy before heading back to the hotel for a nap.

But Toby and Spencer have one last surprise for their children when they awaken two hours later. Toby starts, casually, "So what do you want to do tonight?"

"I don't know," Spencer shrugs. "I think we should go to a party."

"A party?" Toby nods. "That could be cool. It's fall. What do you say we go to a Halloween party?"

"Dad, Mickey's throwing a Halloween party," Grace points out. "We could go to that."

He grins. "We _are_ going to that."

Her eyes widen. "We're going to Mickey's Not-So-Scary Halloween Party?"

"As soon as you guys are ready to go," Spencer nods, smiling. "I've got a Belle and a pretty scary pirate, but what will you dress as, Grace?"

"Oh my god," Grace says as Lilly and Henry bound up excitedly. "Don't worry- I'll figure it out!"

With what she has, she makes a pretty stellar Wendy Darling costume and then they're off. The lights all around the Magic Kingdom have dimmed and are replaced instead with green and purple and orange and a rolling fog. Mournfully slow music from the Haunted Mansion welcomes them in and everyone, guests and cast members alike, is dressed appropriately for the occasion. They go to the villains dance party in Liberty Square and do the electric slide with Lady Tremaine and the evil stepsisters. Perching themselves on Main Street, they watch the Boo to You! parade and are left in awe of the different characters in costume, the skeleton band and the gravediggers, creating sparks along the street with their shovels. Fireworks explode into the sky during HalloWishes and the three lead the way down the treat trails, trick-or-treating behind Space Mountain, and getting their weight in candy.

"I'm pretty sure this vacation is the best one we've ever had," Toby says. "We're getting so many points for this."

"Who else can say they've trick-or-treated in the Magic Kingdom?" Spencer agrees. "This is going in the record books, for sure."


	7. restless bones etherealize

**Hello all! Hopefully you're all doing well on this fine day. It's 93 degrees here today and I don't know how to handle that because I thought it was spring, but apparently I slept right through spring and we've accelerated straight into summer. That's fine. Welcome to Florida. Anyway, thank you for your extremely kind words on the last chapter. You guys always know just what to say to make a girl's day. I wish I could say this chapter is as good, but it's legitimate trash.**

**I'm going to let you in on a little secret now- as creative as you may think I am, I didn't come up with any of these AU situations. Gasp! I know. A real shocker, right? I actually pored the internet for many, many lists of random scenarios and compiled my own list of ones I thought might be fun to write. That's how I ended up with another time period (which I hated, but apparently you all liked?) and that's how I ended up with this one.**

**The chapter title comes from "Grim Grinning Ghosts," which Disney fans will recognize as the theme song from the Haunted Mansion ride and today's alternate universe is supernatural, by default. Let me just say, unlike the zombie chapter, this was terribly difficult to write. I love The Walking Dead, so that was easy. This one? Not so much. I don't like supernatural things; vampires, werewolves, ghosts, fairies... Really not my thing. Like, not even close. But sometimes we have to challenge ourselves as writers, right? Right. So if you hate this one, it's okay. So do I. The next one's normal, I promise. :)**

* * *

restless bones etherealize, rise as spooks of every size

Rosewood, Pennsylvania is one of those towns you read about in story books; small, quaint and out of the way, it offers all the aspects of small town living and is so comfortable and safe that many families have flocked here, set up camp and lived out their days, able to leave their doors unlocked and let their kids play safely alone in their front yards. Everyone knows everyone else and there's no such thing as secrets in a town like this; even if you were to let someone in on something today, someone on the opposite side of town would know by morning. Word travels fast and mostly, that has turned out to be a good thing. But, the people of Rosewood are almost _too_ wholesome, almost _too_ clean-cut, and thus, by the law of nature, something terrible was bound to happen, eventually.

Toby Cavanaugh is promoted to head of the department after a whirlwind case the year prior that involved the hostage of the mayor's dog. Thankfully, everything Toby had done had not only saved the dog (who happened to be trapped in a sewer grate, by the way; not exactly the vicious hostage situation they'd all been expecting) but also had really jumpstarted his career in more ways than one. People know him by name now and will go out of their way to stop him on the streets, shake his hand and thank him for his service. Toby's honestly not sure how to take all the attention, but he always nods and smiles politely and repeats the same mantra, "I'm just doing my job."

One Friday night, Toby opts out of a coworker's bachelor party, claiming he's already got plans with a few friends. It could totally be true, if he had any friends. It's not like he doesn't hang out with guys from the academy; he does. He just does so sparingly, preferring to be on his own. He likes to relax on his own couch and debrief from his long days inside the office, trying to protect a town that doesn't really need protection. Most of the calls they get are really about kittens stuck in trees or cars refusing to start and he's sick of redirecting their calls to the appropriate place and sick of his boring, nine to five job where nothing ever happens. So of course, someone out there must be listening to his complaints, because this Friday night, Toby's watching reruns of _Prison Break_ on Fox when he gets a phone call.

"_Chief… there's been a situation_."

"What kind of situation?" Toby asks. "Something you can't handle?"

"_Two joggers were in the park and well… They found something_."

"Are you going to be specific or are you just going to give me the Reader's Digest version?" Toby growls, growing impatient.

"_They found a body, sir_."

Toby pauses before throwing on his jacket and boots. "I'm on my way."

The park is right by his apartment and he wonders if there had been a murder recently and why he hadn't heard it. Murder isn't the kind of thing that happens in Rosewood, Pennsylvania; he wonders if its occupants even know what it is. Blue and red flashing lights welcome him to the scene like fireworks on the fourth of July and a few of his subordinates are fastening yellow caution tape around the perimeter of the park, wrapping it around trees and ducking under it to join Toby when he arrives on scene. He can see Bill and Joe leaning over the body, one with a camera, one with a notepad, and in the distance he sees the two joggers, pale as the milky moon that acts as the only natural light this late at night.

"What have we got?" Toby asks, his eyes coming to rest on the cooling body lying upon the grass.

"Male, twenty-six, no signs of trauma," Joe informs him. "No external wounds, no abrasions, no murder weapon. But get this- ME thinks he has all the signs of exsanguination."

"You're saying he bled out but there aren't any stab wounds or bullet holes?" Toby wonders. "How is that possible?"

"Exactly," Joe nods. "It's not. ME's lost her marbles."

"Thank you, Joseph," a sardonic voice rings clear. "Glad to see you think so highly of me. Why don't you go back to your photographs and I'll take it from here?"

Joe rolls his eyes, but turns and does what she's asked. Toby grins. "And how are we doing this evening, Miss Hastings?"

She grimaces. "Toby, we've been through this before. Spencer. Always Spencer. Miss Hastings makes me sound like a character from an Austen novel."

"A simple 'fine' or 'good' will do," Toby teases and Spencer chuckles.

"Fine. Good," Spencer mimics. "I was viciously ripped away from an obligatory dinner with the family, so I'm in an excellent mood."

Toby laughs. "Well, I guess we can thank Mr. Male, twenty-six."

"ID in his jacket pocket says his name's Kenneth Langford," Spencer shakes her head. "Joe's not too bright, you know. You could do with a new forensic expert."

"Not many of those lying around here, you know?" Toby says. "I'm running short on cops as it is."

"Clearly," Spencer smirks. "Considering your force doesn't even have a homicide unit."

"We have one unit, maybe twenty guys," Toby replies. "We'll manage."

"Still," She shrugs. "People are going to want answers. What happened to Kenneth and all that."

"People will get their answers as soon as I get mine," Toby says. "Which, of course, requires your expertise."

She grins. "_Now_ you're talking. Suit him up!"

When all the evidence is collected- it doesn't take long; there isn't much- a team of forensic specialists zip Kenneth's body into a plastic body bag and strap him onto a stretcher, taking him away. Later on in the week, Spencer calls Toby into her office, which of course looks nothing like his; she's got the harsh, low-watt institutional lighting, a tray full of medical supplies and a slab of iron with a corpse lying upon it. She slips on some latex gloves before offering him the box and he shakes his head- he won't be touching the body, he's sure of it. Spencer smirks, shakes her head, and switches on the lamp above their heads.

"So I made an incision into his sternum," Spencer explains. "All the way down to the pubic bone. All of his organs are intact. He doesn't have any broken bones, any needle marks, any sign of trauma whatsoever."

"That coincides with your original report," Toby nods. "What else?"

"Oh, he definitely bled out," Spencer says. "There was not a drop of blood left in his body. How, though, is still a mystery, because he's clean."

He shakes his head. "I don't understand."

"Neither do I," She shrugs. "I've never seen this before in my life."

* * *

News, of course, breaks about Kenneth's death and everyone is shocked and waiting for an explanation. If someone finds one before Toby does, he'll be forever in their debt, because he's completely stumped. There's no possible way for someone to bleed out without the blood going _somewhere_, is there? And what had possibly caused it if there weren't any wounds on the body? Toby can finally say he's got something to do; he's never worked so hard in his life. He begins working twelve-hour days, becoming a master in Kenneth Langford's life, poring over every single detail in an effort to find something that sticks out. He had to be someone's enemy; why else would someone want to kill him so viciously? He has absolutely no idea what's going on and just as he's reading over Kenneth's medical history, he gets a call eerily similar to the one he'd received days earlier.

"_Chief, we've got another one. A body_."

"Glad to see you've learned to be precise," Toby says. "Where?"

"_In an alley behind the Rear Window Brew._"

He sighs. "Be there in ten."

The body's different, but the scene is the same. The lights, the caution tape, the shaking frame of the barista who had just come outside for a smoke. Joe is already taking pictures of the body, facedown on the pavement, and as he sees Toby approaching, he hops up. "We got another one! Another male, another one in his twenties. ID says his name's Hank Goddard. Married, two kids, organ donor… Same old, same old!"

"Wounds? Abrasions?" Toby questions and Joe shakes his head.

"Your girlfriend thinks this guy went out the same way the last one did," Joe says. "Exsanguination. She might want to get her medical license checked again. Or revoked."

"And you might want to get your eyes and ears checked," Spencer calls, stepping closer. "Or removed."

"Spencer," Toby nods and she smiles.

"Toby," She greets him. "We've got to stop meeting like this."

"You're telling me."

Joe wants to know, "You the only ME in this town?"

"The only one worth her salt," Spencer shrugs. "Small town, you know."

He rolls his eyes. "And getting smaller."

"Do I even have to cut this one up?" Spencer asks when Joe's left them for a moment. "I'm betting I'll find exactly what I found the last time- nothing."

"It just doesn't make sense," Toby says in frustration. "How are these guys dying from blood loss if they haven't lost blood?"

"They _did_ lose the blood," Spencer tells him. "I just don't know how."

"Well, whatever it is," Toby replies. "I'm counting on you to figure it out."

"I know you are," She smiles. "I'm doing my best."

"I expect nothing less," Toby compliments. "You're very good at your job."

"Can you guys wait until we've all left before you do this?" Joe deadpans. "I'll pay for the room myself."

"Can _you_ do your job like a professional and leave the two of us alone?" Spencer shoots back.

"Maybe if you weren't trying to fuck the police chief while we're standing over a body-"

Toby lands an uppercut to Joe's chin and he howls in pain as the former warns, "Watch your mouth. That's a good way to lose your job."

"You take photographs of the body and I'll do the autopsy," Spencer insists. "And I don't think we should speak to each other anymore."

Joe grumbles cuss words under his breath, still clutching his chin as he walks away from them. Toby says, "I'm sorry. We'll work on him."

She shrugs. "It's alright. A man's nothing I can't handle."

"You did raise an interesting point though," He then says. "We should stop meeting like this."

"Doubtful; bodies always come in threes," She says. "And given our professions, it's bound to happen again."

He smiles. "Can I take you out sometime? Dinner? A movie?"

She hesitates. "I don't know if we should. It could compromise our work ethics."

He waves that aside. "We don't even work for the same department."

"I'm no fun on dates," Spencer then tells him. "I usually just like to stay in."

"Me too," He agrees. "In fact, I prefer it."

She bites her lip and then sighs. "Oh, alright."

* * *

His crush on Spencer Hastings almost feels childlike, as if they're in high school again, passing notes through closed lockers and whispering secrets behind their hands. He can't help that he finds her intriguing; she's beyond smart and has a weird sense of humor and is absolutely beautiful. He still doesn't quite understand how she could possibly be single but she is and maybe she wouldn't be for long. He spends all day trying to figure out how to bring them to the next level and all night in the kitchen, whipping up everything he can manage. It's just after eight when there's a soft knock on his door and when he answers, she's smiling back at him softly, dressed simply in a nice blouse and a skirt.

"You look great," He compliments, bending to kiss her cheek and she jumps when he does so.

"Sorry," She shakes her head. "You just startled me, that's all."

"I didn't mean it," He invites her in. "Come on in. I've made dinner."

She nods and thanks him when he takes her coat, taking a seat upon his couch. He presents her with a bottle of wine and two glasses, a cheese plate, a salad, some pasta, and then glances at the bewildered look on her face and knows he's overdone it. "You never told me you were a chef."

"I'm not," Toby chuckles, sitting beside her. "I mean, I can make the basics and all, but…"

"It looks delicious," Spencer compliments. "Really."

"Thanks," He shrugs. "Alright, do you want to watch a movie? Your pick."

"Sure," She smiles and chooses something action-based on Netflix. After a while, she asks, "So what made you ask me out after so long?"

"You noticed it's been a while, huh?" He asks sheepishly and she grins.

"We've been working together for four years," Spencer shrugs. "I always kind of thought that you liked me but you never made a move."

"I did like you. I _do_," He corrects himself. "But it never felt like the right time."

She nods. "And what makes now the right time?"

"I got tired of waiting," Toby tells her honestly. "And sick of Joe's constant nagging."

"Yeah," She agrees. "I'm pretty sick of Joe myself."

"But the truth is, I guess I was just scared," He admits. "Scared that if we ever ended up starting anything, we would ruin our friendship and wreck our workplace camaraderie."

She leans closer. "And what if we do?"

He shakes his head. "Then we do."

It isn't clear who initiates it, but moments later they're kissing and it's like all he's wanted for four years, coming at once. Her lips are soft and cool, as though she's just returned inside from the cold, and it feels as refreshing as a cool sip of water on a hot summer's day. He feels something spark deep within him and he doesn't know what it is; he's not sure he's ever felt it before. But before he can act upon it, a harsh buzzing comes from his pocket and forces them apart. He checks the number on his pager; it's the station, and when he's called in he's informed there's yet another body, this one down by the river. Spencer awaits her own call and when she receives it they make the trip together, coming upon the lights and caution tape like it's any other day, the sight no longer troubling to them.

Bill stops Toby with a hand to his shoulder the moment he sees him. "Wait, before you go over there…"

"What?" Toby demands. "What's the problem?"

Bill sighs. "It's one of our own."

Toby's eyes widen before hardening a bit and asking, "Who?"

Bill glances over his shoulder before saying, "Joe."

Toby frowns and nods, heading over towards the embankment where Joe's lifeless body rests. Same old, same old; he died of exsanguination. Spencer does her initial examination to confirm this and says, "They come in threes, what did I say?"

"Something is doing this and I don't know how, but we've got to get to the bottom of this," Toby states adamantly. "Joe was a prick, but he didn't deserve to die. Not like this."

"Something?" Spencer questions. "Or some_one_?"

* * *

Rosewood erupts in pandemonium the second the announcement is made that not one, not two, but three bodies have been found and yet a killer has not yet been brought to justice. Parents yank their kids from school, the mayor issues a neighborhood-wide curfew and families move away. Toby works days and nights, holidays and weekends, just to figure it out and everyday, he comes up short. He and Spencer do their best to put their heads together but there's nothing left; no evidence, no suspects, no perpetrators. Toby's beginning to think that this will never be solved; that it'll go down in history like the Black Dahlia or Jon-Benet Ramsey. He doesn't know what to do and for the first time in his career, he cannot offer hope to the people of Rosewood.

One night, he's walking through the streets, so empty, so barren, now, that either the families had left or they're holed up inside their homes, holding their loved ones near. He comes upon the park and decides to take his stroll inside, passing the trees shedding leaves in time for winter and the ponds freezing over with the promise of frost. A sound emanates from the south side, towards a thicket of trees, and Toby frowns and walks in that direction, wondering what could possibly be happening this late at night. There's a man arguing with a woman quite loudly and he reaches out to strike her, but she catches his arm with superhuman strength. Toby watches, eyes wide, as she holds him down and presses him against the ground, stepping over his body as though he's dirt beneath her feet. To his surprise, she opens her mouth and sinks her teeth into his neck. He doesn't make a sound.

Toby steps closer, closer, and feels his heart start to constrict as he recognizes the woman instantly. "Spencer?"

She glances up, startled, her fangs gleaming in the moonlight, blood still dripping from each of them. They begin to retract the moment she's been caught and she stands quickly, asking, "Toby, what are you doing here? Why aren't you at home?"

"What are you…" He trails off. "What are you doing?"

"D-Defending myself," Spencer provides. "He was attacking me."

He shakes his head. "What… I don't… I don't understand. What… _are_ you?"

Her cinnamon-colored eyes turn red with rage and Toby immediately backpedals. "That's not what I meant. I'm sorry, I just… I don't understand. Please help me understand."

"His name is Lance Franklin," Spencer says, kneeling over his body again. "His wife was on my table last month. He thinks it's my fault she's dead when he's the one who beat her with a crow bar. Bet the papers didn't mention that, huh?"

She moves her hand over his neck and Toby watches as the holes her teeth made in his skin are removed instantly. He blinks, rubs his eyes, but they're gone. Realization dawns on him and he says, "It was you. This whole time… It was you."

"Kenneth Langford killed my sister," Spencer recites. "Hank Goddard sued my father for all he had and we lost everything. And, well, Joe was a prick."

"You're a…" Toby stammers, unable to say the words out loud. "You're…"

"Oh, what are you going to do?" She shoots back. "Throw garlic in my face? Drive a stake through my heart?"

Spencer turns away from him, ashamed. "I didn't ask to be this way. I never wanted to hurt anyone. But the hunger is so great… It overcomes me. I tried to ignore the thirst for blood for as long as I could but it's no use. If I don't drink… I become ravenous. And that is not something you ever want to see."

Toby says nothing, still at a loss for words, and Spencer goes on. "I don't kill anyone who doesn't deserve it. And I know that's hardly a justification but… There's nothing I can do. This is who I am. It's who I have to be."

Toby says quietly, "I don't know what to say."

She turns to face him once more, tears glistening in her eyes. "I really do like you. And if you like me, you'll let me go."

He wonders, "Where will you go?"

She shrugs. "I don't know. But I can't stay here. Not if you know."

"I wouldn't tell anyone," Toby promises her. "We could figure something out. You could stay with me for a while and… and…"

"And what?" Spencer wonders. "Drink from blood receptacles like juice boxes? How long would it be until I turned on you?"

Toby shrugs. "Maybe you wouldn't."

She scoffs. "It's not under my control."

"I don't want you to leave," Toby fights and she nods.

"I know," She tells him. "But I can't stay."

He offers, "I could come with you? Help you out. We could… We could…"

"We could what?" Spencer sighs. "Sit at home while you watch me struggle? Toby, you have a life here. People know you; people love you. You need to go right now. You need to let me go."

"Spencer…" He trails off.

"No," She shakes her head. "Go. I'm serious. Get out of here before someone finds us with the body. Just go. Please. Go."

And he does.

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen of Rosewood, I present to you, Chief Officer Toby Cavanaugh."

Applause rings throughout the crowd and Toby nods his thanks towards the mayor before taking the podium. Sunlight is gleaming from the sky above and as Toby looks out upon the sea of good, wholesome Rosewood people, he hopes that what he's about to say will bring them some peace. "Thank you, Mayor Underwood, and thank you for being here today, everyone. I am here to bring some unfortunate news and then, to try and lift the spirits of Rosewood. As you probably know, we lost a good man last night- Lance Franklin. Lance was an upstanding member of the community, a widower, and a very good friend. If we could have a moment of silence for Lance and for all the victims of the mass killings over the past weeks, please."

The moment passes and Toby sighs. "Thank you. I do bring hope- the perpetrator of these killings has been captured and brought into custody. The name is not to be released, but I hope that traveling forward, we can breathe a sigh of relief as we know it is now truly over."

He glances to the side and off in the distance he spots her, standing against a tree, listening from afar. He doesn't know why she's still here and he doesn't know what happened last night; maybe it was all a silly dream, coming from mountains of work and weeks upon weeks of added stress. He clears his throat, saying, "Thank you for being here today. I hope what has happened will remind you that times have changed and nowhere is truly safe. Lock your doors at night and think twice about whom you make acquaintances with. Thank you."

He steps down to confused applause, but he doesn't mind. Toby ignores the questioning looks upon his colleagues' faces and instead heads in her direction. Maybe it was all a dream. Maybe he'd been watching too many reruns of fantastical shows. Or maybe it's real. Maybe she is what she says she is and what he saw with his own two eyes really happened.

Either way, he's going to find out.


	8. but time kept on moving

**Hi I'm back, if you want to see me lol. Hopefully I didn't lose too many of you because of the last chapter. :P I am two chapters away from being done with this story (writing-wise, not posting-wise, obviously) and I'm super excited about it because this has been mildly exhausting. Enjoyable, don't get me wrong, and I've totally loved taking y'all on this crazy ride through these weirdo scenarios, but I'm also ready for a break. Can't blame a girl, am I right? **

**Today's chapter title comes from "Just Like You" by Keb' Mo' and today's alternate universe is high school reunion. I wrote this a million years ago, either between 5x22 and 5x23, or after 5x23, but either way, it was before 5x24 &amp; 5x25 ever aired, so that's where the AU comes in. Other than that, everything's mostly the same. But you'll see that, I guess. No one worry- there aren't any zombies or vampires in any chapters to come. :P Love y'all. See you next time!**

* * *

but time kept on moving and a change has come

The invitation sits on the kitchen counter, right by the phone, for a solid week before he has the courage to pick it up and read it. It's folded in parchment, embossed with gold, and he wonders where they got the money for such fancy stationery and also, where they got his address. He was out of Rosewood so fast, he's sure he didn't leave anything behind. But alas, there it is; he does everything he can to focus on work and his family and he busies himself with dinners and yard work and washing his car. But it doesn't go away; in fact, it taunts him, sitting there in the place where he'd thrown it upon receiving it, his name in elaborate calligraphy. And finally, he decides to tear it open and let the madness begin.

They're doing something new this year; combining three classes into one reunion- 2011, 2012, 2013- and that can only mean that enough people hadn't shown up to the last one and thus, they had to compensate, somehow. Toby stares at the details, emotionless, and wonders if it even counts if he shows up; if he never truly graduated, can he really go to the class reunion? He figures he's going to end up trashing the invitation anyway. He can come up with plenty of excuses not to go; he has to work late, they can't find a sitter, Rosewood's too far a drive for his old, beat-up truck. And there's no one, really, that he cares to see; no one had paid him any attention in high school and he bets that if he walked into that ballroom, not one person would know who he was.

His wife feels differently. "Well you have to go."

Toby frowns. "How do you figure?"

"Toby, come on," She reasons. "It's your high school reunion. I went to mine and had a great time."

"You were also the president of everything and had a million friends," He counters. "That's not how my high school years went."

She purses her lips. "You never talk about high school."

"There's nothing to tell," He insists. "High school, for me, was a waking nightmare. It was hell. And I'd rather not relive that, if I could."

"High school sucks for everyone," She sighs. "But going to the reunion is fun because you get to see where everyone ended up. Who got really fat, who married who, who got the highest paying job…"

She trails off and still, he remains silent. "Look, I feel like you hate it so much because you never got closure."

He shoots her a look, thinking of broken limbs, of heartache and of _her_. "Please don't shrink me, Kate."

She holds up her hands in defense. "I'm not trying to. I'm just expressing an observation. Let's go and see everything and if it sucks as much as you think it's going to, we'll never go back, okay?"

Toby sighs. "Fine. I just hope you're ready for disappointment."

Kate rolls her eyes. "Maybe it'll surprise you. Maybe it won't be as bad as it seems."

She turns and heads upstairs to wrangle the girls for bedtime and Toby sighs. "I doubt it."

* * *

"Keep your eyes closed, Spencer, no peeking!"

"I don't know what's happening, but you're making me very nervous."

"No! Don't be! Just don't look!"

"I'm not looking!"

"Okay, ready? You can open your eyes in one, two, three!"

"Surprise!"

Her eyes flutter open and take in the sight before her. Their break room is filled with balloons and streamers, presents and happy coworkers, and a giant banner reading, 'It's a Boy!' Spencer grins, "You guys…"

"We wanted to throw you an impromptu baby shower because you've been an inspiration to all of us," her friend Beth announces. "And we're going to miss you _so_ much while you're gone."

"Thank you," She says gratefully, collecting her in a hug. "But I don't leave for another month. You've still got me."

"Well, until then," another friend puts in. "We wanted to celebrate little Owen's arrival."

"Okay, thank you for the suggestion, but we're not naming the baby after you," Spencer laughs. "And who let it slip that it's a boy? Curt and I were keeping that a secret."

"Spencer, we're all doctors," Theresa says. "We know how to slip into your file and read a sonogram."

She chuckles, shaking her head. "Well, thank you guys for this, seriously. I couldn't ask for better friends."

They eat cake and laugh and mingle and when the party is over, her friends load up her car with all her goodies and she returns home. As always, she returns home with a smile on her face and she can't remember a time when she was this happy. Or really, she probably can, but she doesn't allow herself to, not anymore. Instead, she brings a few of the things in from her car and enlists Curt's help unloading the rest and the two of them make and eat dinner together and toss a few names on the table, still unsure of what moniker they're going to give their first child together. It isn't until long after dinner, when they're both showered and watching television in the living room, that Curt remembers something and hands her the envelope.

"I completely forgot," He smacks his forehead. "This came for you today."

Spencer glances at the embossing, the calligraphy, the return address, and her palms begin to sweat. "Oh. Thanks."

She sets it beside her and he eyes her strangely. "Aren't you going to open it?"

"I don't need to," Spencer shrugs. "I know what it is."

"It's from your school," Curt says. "It's probably a reunion. Do you not want to go?"

"Not particularly," Spencer admits. "I have nothing to go back there for."

"That's not true," Curt disagrees. "What about your friends?"

"I haven't spoken to them in years," Spencer tells him. "It would just be awkward."

After a beat, he asks tentatively, "Are you worried you might see him?"

Spencer hesitates and wants to pretend she has no idea who he's talking about. Instead, she shakes her head and takes his hand in hers. "No. No, I'm not. I haven't thought about him in years and even if we went… He wouldn't go. Believe me."

He nods slowly and says, "Whatever you want to do. I'm up for anything."

They retire to bed not long after and Spencer lies awake, contemplates the lie she's told- _I haven't thought about him in years_\- and wonders in agony if this is where it all begins.

The next morning, she decides, "I think we should go. To my reunion, I mean."

Curt smiles and gives her a quick kiss. "Okay. Omelet?"

She nods and leaves it at that.

* * *

Just driving into Rosewood is enough to make Toby uncomfortable. They pass by the cerulean "Welcome to Rosewood" sign on the hill high above the town and for reasons he didn't think bothered him anymore, his heart aches. He's hit with a sense of longing, one he hasn't felt in years and years, and he can only assume it's because he's finally back here after all this time. Kate rests a hand on his thigh and shoots him a look of assurance and he smiles back and hopes she can't see through him. They pass all the usual landmarks, but Toby doesn't turn down his street; ever since the explosion years and years ago, it hasn't quite been the same. His house is a replacement and his family… well. He hasn't spoken to them since he left and doesn't plan to do so now.

The reunion is slated for the new Four Seasons at the edge of town and it's kind of funny that after all these years, the town finally decided to tear down the Edgewood Motor Court and replace it with a hotel that actually had standards of living. Fond memories of her come flooding back to him, but they were just teenagers then; silly teenagers playing a silly board game on their silly overnight mission. For the first time in a long time, he allows himself to wonder what happened to her and he hopes that wherever she is, she's okay. He doesn't expect to run into her tonight; of course, he doesn't expect to run into _anyone _tonight. He's sure that even people he recognizes are going to pretend they don't know him.

They sign in and he sticks a nametag to the lapel of his suit jacket and tries to calm the nerves buzzing throughout his body. People are already shooting him second glances and Kate promises he'll be fine and then excuses herself to use the restroom. He stands awkwardly in the corner for a moment before he hears his name over the crowd. "Toby?"

He whirls around, because the voice is extremely familiar, and when his eyes fall upon her, he grins. "Emily. Hi."

Emily Fields is there before him, looking exactly like she had when he'd last seen her, and she's smiling so bright, her giddiness is only contagious. "Oh my god. I can't believe you're here right now! I never thought you'd come."

"I almost didn't," Toby says sheepishly, accepting and returning the hug she offers him. "It's been so long. How are you?"

"Good, good," Emily nods. "I'm a teacher now. A small charter school downstate."

"Good for you," He smiles. "I went back to carpentry. Police work… It just wasn't for me."

Emily nods slowly. Surely, she knows why. "You haven't heard from her either, then?"

He shakes his head. "Not since that night."

"It sucks, you know?" Emily sighs. "I haven't spoken to any of them since college. We all just sort of lost touch. You always say you're going to be friends forever; that you'll _never_ lose touch with one another and then…"

"Then you always do," Toby finishes. "I know."

Kate returns moments later and Toby introduces her to Emily, the two women finding things they have in common easier than Toby will ever understand. They stay and chat a while before Emily excuses herself politely and tells them she'll catch up with them later. Toby follows her line of vision, sees Paige McCullers on the opposite side of the room, and understands. If he had the chance to make amends… Well. He can't allow himself to go there; not until the opportunity presents itself. He and Kate walk around the ballroom a bit more and Toby allows himself to forget that her coming here tonight was ever even an option. They sit down at one of the clothed tables in the center of the room, ready for dinner, and that is, of course, the moment he sees her.

The first thing he notices is her protruding belly and for some reason, unwarranted jealousy ignites a fire in his veins. He's mad at himself instantly; after all, hadn't he, also, married and had not one, but two beautiful children? She's holding hands with a tall, smiling guy in glasses and a suit, oblivious to the fact that Toby suddenly can't seem to take his eyes off her. Kate catches him staring and asks, worriedly, "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

He gives a barely perceptible nod. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

She glances across the room, too, and seems to understand. "That's her, isn't it?"

"Yeah. But it doesn't matter." Toby shakes his head, focusing on the menu before him. "What are you getting? I'm thinking the steak."

"You should go say hi," Kate says instead and Toby locks eyes with hers.

"Are you sure?"

Kate nods. "I think you'll always hate yourself if you don't."

Toby sighs and it scares him to think that Kate knows him almost as well as _she_ had.

* * *

Spencer's in the middle of hearing all about Hanna's escapades over Europe when she spots him for the first time. Curt is nodding politely and laughing in all the right places and Hanna's speaking with wild gestures, but Spencer can't hear them anymore. He's looking right at her and she suddenly feels like she's eighteen again, running from –A, fearing for her life, loving him blindly and following him to the ends of the earth. He stands moments later and a beautiful woman follows and when he puts his arm around her out of reflex, Spencer feels a burning pit in her stomach that has no right to be there. He's moved on. Of course he has; it's been over ten years and hey, so has she. It's just after another person has caught Hanna's attention that Curt notices Spencer's mind has wandered off and he places a steady hand on her shoulder to bring her back.

"You okay?" He wonders. "You seem to have kind of dozed off during her story."

"Well, you know… It's Hanna, so…" She offers lamely and can't take her eyes off the figure coming towards her.

"No, I don't," Curt says, eyeing her oddly. "I've never met her before tonight, remember?"

"Oh, right," Spencer shakes her head. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," He smiles. "But something's caught your attention. Care to share?"

She locks eyes with Curt's just as _he_ comes closer and her husband seems to understand. "Oh. Okay, now I get it."

She shoots him a look of sympathy, of sorrow, of regret and he shakes his head, telling her it's no big deal. Just then, she turns around and comes face to face with him, all conversation dying all around them. For a moment, they just look at one another, unsure of what to say, unsure of what to do; where do they begin after so many years apart? This is Toby Cavanaugh, a bit older, a bit rougher around the edges than she'd remembered, but it's still him. This is her very first love, the man who'd brought out the best in her and simultaneously the worst, the one who'd taught her so much about the world and had encouraged her to be the very best person she could be. They were so much to each other, they were _everything_, and then they were nothing.

Toby speaks first and Spencer's glad. She still doesn't know what to say. "Hi Spencer. It's good to see you."

"Hi," She says softly. "It's good to see you, too."

She doesn't know what to do- do they shake hands? Hug? Stand here and stare awkwardly at one another? The end up doing the latter. Toby turns to his side and introduces, "This is my wife, Kate. Kate, this is Spencer."

"It's nice to finally meet you," Kate offers her hand cordially. "I've heard a lot about you."

Spencer expects to detect malice in her words, but comes up empty. "You, too. This is my husband, Curt."

Curt grins and shakes both their hands; always the charmer, always willing and eager to meet new people. "Toby, Kate. It's a pleasure, really."

And then there's a silence that nearly stifles them. Spencer says, "I didn't think you'd come."

Toby nods. "I didn't think you would, either."

"I guess that's my doing," Curt says sheepishly. "She didn't want to come, honestly, but you've _got_ to go to your high school reunion, right? I told her she'd probably regret it if she didn't."

"That's exactly what I said," Kate nods her agreement. "But this one's too stubborn to see it."

"Guilty," Toby says. "It's just not my idea of fun."

More silence ensues. Kate seems the sense the awkwardness first, because she lays a hand on Toby's arm and says, "I'm going to go order for us, okay? I want to call Shannon, too, and check on the girls. It'll give you two time to talk."

Curt nods and says, "I'll find us a table. Call me if you need anything?"

Spencer agrees and when their significant others leave, it somehow makes things worse. After a beat, Spencer inquires, "You have girls?"

"Lila and Natalie," He grins, awkwardness forgotten, and produces his phone. "Want to see a picture?"

"Of course," She smiles back and marvels at the two striking little girls gracing his screen. "Oh, Toby, they're beautiful."

"Thank you," He says. "Lila's three and Natalie will be eighteen months next week. They're a handful, but… They're great."

She nods, still gazing at the wispy blonde hair, the bright blue eyes, the grinning faces, until the screen goes dark. Toby then says, "Well, I mean, you'll know soon enough, right? How far along are you?"

"Almost eight months," Spencer replies, her hands flocking instantly to her stomach. "I'm starting to get really uncomfortable."

"It's going to get worse before it gets better, I'm afraid," Toby chuckles. "Boy or girl?"

"Boy," She grins. "We're so excited."

"You should be," He nods. "Congratulations."

"Thank you."

After a beat, Toby admits, "I'm glad you came. I haven't seen you in so long and… I guess I just always wondered if you were happy."

"I am," Spencer tells him truthfully. "And you are, too?"

"Yeah," He agrees. "I really am."

"Good," She smiles. "That's all that really matters, right?"

"Yeah," He sighs. "I guess so."

* * *

After dinner, there are fireworks over the town and they're ushered outside for a prime viewing location after a few class speeches are made. Dinner had been pleasant, but this is more than enough forced merriment for Toby and he's ready to leave. Kate pleads to stay and he agrees, but of course the moment they go outside, she receives a phone call from the babysitter and has to walk her through putting the girls to bed. She excuses herself, says she'll meet him upstairs at the room, and then she's gone. Toby sighs and watches the fireworks explode into the sky and he can't say he understands this new Rosewood. It's as if they're trying to compensate for everything that went wrong while –A was still calling the shots, but Band-Aids won't fix the gaping, open wounds she left behind.

He feels a presence beside him and when he turns, he finds Spencer, just as alone as he is. She says, "They're beautiful, aren't they?"

He nods. "Yeah. Sure. Where's Curt?"

"He actually had to head home," She frowns. "There was an emergency at the hospital."

"You're both doctors, then?" Toby asks and she nods.

"He's a cardiologist, I'm an anesthesiologist," She confirms and smiles. "It's how we met."

Toby nods his understanding and can tell she's going to ask the question before she does. "Are you… Are you still a cop?"

He sighs, shaking his head. "No. I left a few weeks after… After the shit hit the fan."

She turns to him and implores, "Do you want to talk about it?"

He nods, but nods towards a bench away from it all. "Not here."

They walk together, past the group of their colleagues and former classmates, and sit beside one another on a marble bench on the far wall of the hotel. Neither of them speaks for a moment, unsure of where to begin. Toby bites the bullet and picks up where they left off. "You were on Tanner's radar. I was scared that… That she'd arrest you just because you were guilty by association. She kept nagging me, asking me question after question about your involvement and your whereabouts and I told her I didn't know a thing. She thought I was just doing it to protect you. She thought I was lying. So then I thought… I thought I'd just distance myself from you, just a little, so she could see I really knew nothing and that my relationship with you wasn't going to compromise the job. I thought just a little distance would do and then… Then I went too far."

"You never told me that's what you were doing," Spencer says softly. "I didn't know you were doing it for Tanner, I just thought… I thought you wanted to be away from me."

"I know you thought that," Toby frowns. "And I'm sorry. I wish I could express to you how much that wasn't true. On the contrary, it was killing me to be away from you that often."

"Me too," She sighs painfully. "It made me do stupid, crazy things."

He knows exactly what she's referring to. "Like getting yourself into legal trouble? Breaking and entering? Vandalism?"

Spencer purses her lips. "Kissing Jonny… and Colin."

It's been over ten years and it still hurts. Toby says quietly, "I didn't mention that for a reason."

"And I brought it up for that same reason," Spencer counters. "I've never forgotten. And I've never forgiven myself. The only thing that hurt more than telling you… was seeing how much it hurt you. And I hated myself ever since."

Toby glances down at his hands and he feels like he's nineteen again, sitting in his loft, with a crying, confessing Spencer beside him. "That is not a conversation I want to remember."

"You told me you felt like you didn't even know me anymore," Spencer says anyway. "And then I realized… I realized I wasn't the same person I was when we started dating. I wasn't the same person you fell in love with. And it scared me because… Because you were the only person who _ever_ knew who I was. And if you didn't know me… Who did?"

"And you yelled at me," Toby remembers, still glancing downward. "You told me that if I hadn't been so intent on protecting you that none of this would have ever happened; that if I'd just let you live your own life instead of trying to control what did or didn't happen to you, we wouldn't have as many issues as we did. And then I felt like the overprotective, controlling boyfriend I'd tried so hard not to be and… It reminded me of what I went through with Jenna. And I hated myself, too."

Spencer sucks in a deep breath. "I don't know what happened next."

"I do," Toby says. "I was ashamed of myself and upset and I did what I always did. I left. And you said…"

"Oh my god," Spencer gasps. "I told you if you left not to bother coming back. So you stayed and told me that you loved me."

"And you told me that you loved me, too," Toby finishes. "But in the end, we decided that wasn't enough."

"So…" Spencer trails off. "I went to school. I did my residency, got my doctorate, got married…"

"So did I," Toby says. "Got out of Rosewood, had a couple of kids, started my own home building company…"

"But we never spoke again," Spencer frowns. "And it killed me. It still does."

"I'm sorry," Toby laments. "If I hadn't been so damn worried about you and your wellbeing all the time… If I hadn't been so preoccupied with keeping you safe and so oblivious to what you were actually looking for…"

"I'm sorry, too," Spencer pleads with him. "I was so stubborn and so immature and I didn't listen to anything you said. If I had just kept to myself or refused Johnny or… If I had just stopped trying to make things right for _two seconds_… If I had just paid attention…"

"We have a lot of ifs," Toby says sadly. "But it's not going to change anything. We did what we did and now we have to live with it."

She pauses but nods after a moment. "We were kids. We were just dumb kids dealing with things much too mature and much too… _big_ for us. It sounds like a cop-out but… Our relationship always felt really adult, you know? And I think we felt, in some ways, that we _were_ adults. So when teenage things got in the way… We didn't know how to deal with it."

"I think that makes perfect sense, actually," Toby tells her. "And I know people always think that teenagers don't know what love is and they don't know how real relationships work, but I can safely say that wasn't our problem, Spence. I really, really loved you."

"I really loved you, too," She assures him. "Part of me always will. I don't think there's anything in the world that could change that. The way I love you is different from the way I love Curt, but it's still there. I doubt it'll ever go away."

He smiles. "I know the feeling."

There's a comfortable silence between them now, not one filled with the awkwardness of yore, and Toby finally feels at peace. All the stress and the uncertainty between them has gone away and he's left, instead, with a load of what ifs that he'll likely never get the answer to. He wonders, a bit sadly, if they'd had this conversation years ago, when these problems had first arisen, would they be married, now? Would they have the beautiful children together and the house he'd built with his own two hands and the respectable jobs they both loved? Would they have come here tonight together to show off their love and prove to the world that teenage relationships _do_ have a success rate? He doesn't know. He never will. And it kills him to think of what they could've had if they had just confronted one another and communicated.

"Promise me we'll keep in touch, now," Spencer then pleads with him. "I know it might be weird at first, but we were friends before all of this and I really want to stay connected."

"I do, too," Toby agrees. "We'll keep in touch, definitely. I'm really glad we had the chance to do this."

"So am I," She nodded. "We're okay now, finally."

"Yeah," He confirms. "We're good."

* * *

"I'm so sorry, I'm so, so sorry," Curt apologizes over and over the second he pulls up to the front of the hotel. "Babe, I couldn't get away."

"Curt, it's fine," Spencer assures him. "Really. As if you could leave your own emergency."

"I tried," Curt says. "I'm not the only cardiologist in the city, you know."

"But you're the best one," Spencer replies cheekily and shuts the car door behind her as Curt drives on, towards home. "And I missed you, but trust me, you didn't miss anything."

"That's not true. I missed you, too," He replies, kissing her cheek quickly at a stoplight. "Was it an okay night?"

"It was nice," Spencer nods. "Toby and I talked for a really long time."

Curt nods. "Good. Are you guys finally on the same page?"

It's a loaded question; he knows it as well as she does. Spencer hadn't told Curt everything about her relationship with Toby, but she had told him how it ended and she always suspected that he wondered if she still harbored feelings for him. Truth be told, she knows that Toby was her very first true love and that kind of emotion never truly dies. She'd be lying- and she doesn't do that, not anymore- if she said she hasn't thought about him in the past years since their split and of course, once upon a time she'd believed that it would be Toby waiting at the altar, Toby cradling their children, Toby, by her side, till death parts them. But life got in the way; life threw them for curves they weren't ready for and sent them up twists and turns that left their heads spinning. There would always be something there, but they would never be _everything_ to each other again. They would have to settle as friends and after all, that's better than nothing.

"Yeah," Spencer smiles complacently, watching Rosewood disappear in the rearview mirror. "It's all good."


	9. it was enchanting to meet you

**Hi! I'm back! And this one totally won't ruin your life, I swear! I'm sorry I've been so awful to you guys lately. But what have I always said? Angst is more fun, for me, to write than fluff. It just is. I don't know why; maybe I'm secretly a masochist. Anyway. This one shouldn't kill you guys; it's mindless fluff. I hope you enjoy and I do thoroughly appreciate your feedback on the last chapter. It was wonderful.**

**Today's chapter title comes from "Enchanted" by Taylor Swift (yes I'm a Taylor Swift fan; come at me) and today's AU is blind date. It's totally rainy, humid and crappy outside and all I want to do is stay home and finish writing this story, but alas, I promised my friend I'd go to Sea World with her today. This in fact is going to be a struggle for me because I watched Blackfish, guys, and I'm not totally in full support of Sea World anymore. But I guess there are always two sides to a story, right? I'll let you know how it goes. :P**

* * *

all i can say is it was enchanting to meet you

"We need to do this more often," Emily pleads, a joyous smile upon her face. "Seriously. It's been too long."

"Since we've caught up? Yeah, I agree," Spencer nods, taking a sip of water. "I've just been so busy."

"With work or with life?" Emily asks, raking the salad in her bowl around with a fork. "Every time I call you, you tell me you can't talk right now."

Spencer bites her lip. She's the youngest CEO in the history of the company and as accomplished as she feels, it means she's had to make many sacrifices along the way. "Work, obviously. There's nothing going on in my life."

"That's because your job is your life, Spence," Emily notes. "You need to take it down a notch. Have some fun for a while. What does Luke think?"

Spencer balks. "Luke who?"

"Luke, your boyfriend? Luke?" Emily asks, bewildered. "What do you mean, Luke who?"

"Oh, we broke up _weeks_ ago," Spencer shrugs, taking a bite of her sandwich.

Emily throws up her hands. "And you didn't tell me? For being your best friend, I sure know nothing about you."

"It's not a big deal," Spencer assures her. "He wasn't right for me. I'm beginning to wonder if I'll _ever_ someone right for me. Nobody seems to just… _understand_, you know?"

"No, I don't," Emily shakes her head. "But I thought the guy was nice."

"His being nice wasn't the problem," Spencer says. "He just wanted more than I could give. He got fed up with me because he said I was 'physically detached and emotionally unavailable'."

"He's got a point, you know," Emily tells her and Spencer shoots her a look.

"Look, I'm sorry if I love my job and I'm sorry that I'm trying to make a name for myself," Spencer defends and Emily snorts.

"You've already made a name for yourself," She says. "You're on the cover of Forbes, you have the Wall Street Journal blowing up your phone… Our waiter asked if he could get you anything and when you said you were all set, he asked for a job!"

"Okay, so a few people know me," Spencer shrugs nonchalantly. "But most people don't even recognize me until I tell them my name. Luke got so freaked out by it and I just… He was pretty useless, that's all."

Emily frowns. "We'll find you someone."

"I just haven't gotten that _feeling_, you know?" Spencer admits. "When you're with someone you're supposed to be with, you just have a _connection_. Or, at least, I think you do. What do I know?"

"No, you know what? You're right," Emily nods. "And I think I have the solution."

She yanks out her cellphone and pads through her contacts as Spencer watches, curiously. "What are you doing, Em?"

"I'm going to set you up with one of my friends," She says simply. "I really think you two will hit it off. I actually can't believe I didn't think of this sooner."

"You're going to set me up?" Spencer cringes. "Like a blind date? _Ugh_. It's come to this, hasn't it? Why don't I just make a profile online?"

Emily smirks. "Come on. He's cute and sweet and… less intense than you are. I think he'll be great for you."

"Fine," Spencer gives in. "Why not? What's the harm in trying?"

"Awesome," She grins. "We're going to see a movie tomorrow night. I'll ask him then."

They pay for their meal and Spencer shakes her head, standing upright. "I can't believe I agreed to this."

"You won't regret it, honestly," Emily tells her as the two leave the restaurant for their cars. "You're the most eligible bachelorette that I know and he's the most eligible bachelor. I can't think of a better idea than to put you two together."

Spencer contemplates this and then asks, "If he's so eligible, how come someone else hasn't already snatched him up?"

"Spence, I ask myself that all the time," Emily shakes her head. "He and I don't have a lot in common but if I were straight, I would make it work."

Spencer laughs and Emily giggles too, adding, "I'm serious. I honestly think he's in the same boat you are. Looking for the right person and never really finding her."

"And you think that person's me?" Spencer implores, truly wanting to know.

"Nothing's certain," Emily says genuinely. "But I think you could be."

* * *

"The action-thriller is sold out," Emily frowns, stepping away from the ticket booth. "That leaves the new Jennifer Aniston rom-com or that weird Ukrainian film with the English subtitles. So would you rather sleep or read?"

Toby chuckles. "You left out that sci-fi film with the alien-cyborg hybrid. Tell me that hasn't piqued your interest."

"Yeah, I'm going to pass on that," Emily chuckles. "Maybe we should just go get ice cream or something."

"I'm okay with that," Toby agrees and they turn away, heading down the street.

"So how's life been?" Emily asks as they head towards the ice cream parlor. "It's getting colder; that must be slowing down business, huh?"

"It's been good," Toby nods. "We haven't had a ton of jobs, lately, but that's what happens when winter starts to set in. It's okay. We were swamped over the summer, so it's nice to be able to relax a bit."

Emily nods. "That's good. And you still have all your fingers."

"I know how to work a table saw, Emily. It doesn't happen as often as you may think," He chuckles. "But what about you? How's work? Paige?"

"Paige is good; work's good, too," Emily tells him. "We're figuring out where we're going, at least."

"Good," Toby smiles and she prods him further.

"Are you figuring out where _you're_ going?" She wonders. "What ever happened to Cara? I haven't seen her in a while."

"Cara," Toby shakes his head. "She moved to Wisconsin, actually."

"What?" Emily exclaims. "Why?"

"I don't know," He shrugs. "We were barely talking at the end. She told me she was leaving and I wished her a good trip."

"Toby…" She shakes her head in shock. "That's not how you break up with someone."

"What was I supposed to do? Yell at her? I don't yell," He says. "Beg her to stay? I didn't really care if she left, honestly. She was just kind of… there."

"Ooh," Emily bites her lip. "That is so not how you want to feel about your girlfriend."

"Not really, no," Toby replies. "It's fine. It's not really a big deal."

"You deserve to be happy, though," Emily says. "And so your best friend is coming through for you."

Toby stops walking. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Emily begins, linking her arm through his and tugging him along. "I'm going to set you up with one of my _other_ best friends. She's awesome. You're going to love her."

"You're going to set me up?" Toby asks, trepidation lacing his tone. "You've never done that before."

"I know and I don't know why," Emily responds. "Seriously. She's great and you guys will get along so well."

"But a blind date? Really?" He grimaces. "At this rate, I might as well make a profile online."

Emily's struck with déjà vu and she shakes her head. "She said the same thing. You guys are more made for each other than I ever thought."

"You think so?" Toby wonders and Emily nods fiercely. "Alright, if you think this is going to work."

"It totally is," Emily squeals with excitement. "Oh my god. This is awesome. I'm like the matchmaker! I'll set it up as soon as I get home."

"Okay, but if this turns out badly-"

"It won't," Emily insists.

"But if it does," Toby goes on. "Aren't you going to feel awkward around us both?"

"No," Emily shakes her head. "But I do demand you name your first child after me, the one who brought her parents together."

Toby rolls his eyes. "Emily, you need to chill."

She throws her head back in laughter as they approach the parlor. "Chocolate or vanilla?"

"I don't know; you're planning the rest of my life. Why don't you decide?" He says and she grins.

"Chocolate it is," Emily says and orders them each a cone. "You're going to have a great time with her. You'll see."

Toby sighs. "I guess I will."

* * *

The night of the big date, Spencer is a bundle of nerves. She curls her hair and then straightens it and then curls it again, completely unsatisfied with her appearance, and when she burns herself on the curling iron, she decides she's leaving it as is. She rips her pantyhose and curses because now she's going to wear a dress with bare legs; she's basically as classless as they come. Even her makeup is coming out wrong and she doesn't know why she suddenly can't hold a mascara wand or blend foundation like a normal human being. When she decides her appearance is halfway decent, Spencer draws in a deep breath, forces herself to stay calm, and drives steadily to the restaurant where they're going to meet. She waits outside, because it's easier to get away outdoors if she gets stood up than it would be if she were already inside. She doesn't get stood up; he's already there, waiting for her.

Meanwhile, Toby spends all day deciding whether or not to bring flowers, whether or not to wear a tie, whether or not to call Emily and have her call off the whole thing. He's never been good on first dates; he's introverted and socially awkward by nature and neither of those things makes for a good combination, especially when meeting someone for the first time. But, he does his best to remain calm. He decides against the flowers, because he isn't picking her up and she'll have nowhere to put them and what if he inadvertently chooses flowers she's allergic to? But he does decide to wear a tie; he wants to make a good impression on her, regardless. He ends up arriving at the restaurant twenty minutes early and he curses himself for not being able to find something, literally _anything_, to keep him busy at home, because now he's standing on the sidewalk fidgeting with his tie and awaiting the beautiful brunette who eventually comes walking towards him.

"Hi," He opens, extending a hand towards her. "Toby. Nice to meet you."

"Spencer," She smiles. "It's good to meet you, too. Should we go inside?"

"Yeah," He nods and holds the door open as she passes through.

"Thank you."

They're seated and poring over the menu when he asks, "This is really awkward, isn't it?"

"A little," She chuckles. "But it's only awkward if we make it awkward. For some reason, Emily seems to think that you and I are destined for each other."

"Yeah, so she says," He grins. "I've got to be honest, though- I don't usually do blind dates."

"Oh, neither do I," She assures him. "There's just such a stigma behind it. Although, I guess anything's better than meeting online."

He laughs. "That's what I said!"

"I shouldn't bash it too much; my sister met her husband online," Spencer shrugs. "It just seems so weird to me. Plus, I'm always paranoid that I'll end up meeting the next serial killer on there."

"Oh," Toby nods. "So I guess you aren't interested in coming back to my place to check out my impressive knife collection?"

She stares at him a moment before bursting into giggles. "You had me there, for a second. I'm not going to lie."

Toby says, "I'm not _Dexter_, I promise."

"So what do you do?" Spencer asks for clarification. "You know, when you're not moonlighting as a serial killer?"

He smirks. "I'm a carpenter. I'm contracted with Smith and Kinney."

"Smith and Kinney?" Spencer exclaims. "That's awesome! They put up my house. Well, it's not really mine; I mean, it's my parents', but still. That's great."

"Yeah, it's fun," He agrees. "It's what I've wanted to do forever, so I'm happy."

"And how long have you been with them?"

"Since I was eighteen," Toby tells her. "So I'm going on eight years now. It doesn't even feel like it's been that long."

"That's so great," Spencer says. "I can't even imagine knowing what I wanted to do that young, let alone actually having the courage to go out and pursue it. You're so lucky."

"I guess so," He shrugs. "What about you? What do you do?"

"I'm the CEO for Synergy-Horizons," Spencer says and then elaborates. "It's an entertainment conglomerate."

"No, I know what it is," Toby says. "It owns like half the businesses in this town. _You_ own like half the businesses in this town."

"Two-thirds, I think, actually," She corrects and then shrugs. "It's fun work, though, and the benefits are good."

"I bet," He says. "That's crazy. I remember reading about how they just promoted the youngest CEO in the history of the company; I can't _believe_ that's you."

She colors and glances away. "It's not a big deal."

"It's a _huge_ deal," He disagrees. "That's so awesome. Good for you. Congratulations."

"Thanks," She smiles and raises her glass of wine towards his. "A toast to our cool jobs?"

"And to the rest of the night, because it's totally not awkward," He sips after their glasses clink together and then immediately regrets what he's said. "I just made it awkward, didn't I?"

"No," Spencer promises with a small laugh. "So how long have you known Emily?"

"Since seventh or eighth grade, maybe?" He thinks a moment. "I was that loner who had no friends and she was still in the closet and had no one to turn to. We were paired together for a history project and we've been friends ever since."

"That's pretty adorable," Spencer comments. "She's never mentioned you before. Or, maybe she has, and I just haven't been paying attention."

"Yeah, I'm trying to remember if she ever brought you up," Toby says. "You guys have been friends…?"

"Oh God, since birth," Spencer tells him. "Our Moms were college roommates. They still get together once a week to talk shit about everyone they ever knew. They're funny. But yeah, Em and I… We go way back."

"College roommates?" Toby's eyebrows rise. "Wow. That's awesome."

"Yeah, growing up, Pam was like my second Mom." Spencer says. "Although, it's actually kind of hilarious- she never liked my Dad. Literally up until the very day they were set to get married, Pam was advising my Mom not to go through with it."

"Obviously she did," Toby fills in and Spencer nods.

"Obviously," She goes on. "But they fought _nonstop_. In fact, one of my earliest memories is of my sister telling me that it's okay that my mother just called my father a 'spineless bastard'; he's called her worse things before."

"Stop," Toby says. "And how old were you?"

"Three, maybe?" Spencer smiles fondly at the memory. "Melissa was nine; she was a seasoned expert at this point. It wasn't long before I learned that 'crazy bitch' and 'spineless bastard' were their names for one another, regardless of the fact that we were around. I guess Pam was on to something; they split when I was in high school. We all wondered why it took them so long."

"That's rough," Toby shakes his head. "You learned to swear pretty early, I'm assuming."

"Oh yeah," She nods in confirmation. "In third grade, I was sent to the principal's office for telling Jillian Bishop to go to hell. I didn't know what it meant, obviously, but my Dad told my Mom to do it so many times when _he_ was angry, I just thought that's what you're supposed to say."

He chuckles a bit. "Oh my god. Did you get in trouble?"

"No," She negates. "But they did, when I told the principal where I'd learned that phrase. That was a fun family conversation."

"That's crazy," Toby grins. "I honestly can't even imagine what your principal must've been thinking."

"Me either," She says. "Poor guy. Us Hastings' were a handful."

"But the real question is," Toby then asks. "Did Jillian Bishop deserve it?"

"Hell yes she did," Spencer nods fiercely. "She poured her tomato soup down my uniform! My mother made us go to private school and we were only issued two a week, so we had to wash them every other day. I still can't look at tomato soup the same way."

"Tomato soup is pretty disgusting," Toby nods and she chuckles.

"So you agree!" She exclaims. "Ugh. I definitely had a hard time making friends after that."

"Oh, I have a lot of experience in that area," Toby says and barely notices as their entrees are placed before them. "Although, it was probably my parents' fault, mostly. No one wants to be friends with the freak who's recently been kidnapped."

Her eyes widen. "You were _kidnapped_?"

"Abducted, if we want to be technical, and it was by my own mother," Toby clarifies. "She… She was a piece of work. And I loved her to death, don't get me wrong, but she had issues. She probably should have been medicated long before any of it ever happened, but… I don't know. One minute, I'm trying to ignore yet another fight they're having downstairs, after midnight on a school night, and the next, I hear my mother throwing things in her bedroom and then she comes into mine, picks me up, and we take off. She just kind of put me in the car and we drove for days."

"How old were you?" Spencer needs to know.

"Five," Toby answers. "I had no idea what was happening. She just kept telling me we were going on vacation. And when I asked why Dad wasn't coming, she just told me that she and him were done. We actually made it all the way to Virginia before the cops caught her. She went to jail and I went back to kindergarten and when I asked why she didn't come home, my Dad said, 'Don't worry about it, Toby. She's crazy.' As if that's answer to the question."

"That's intense," Spencer shakes her head. "And you were so young; I can't imagine what was going through your head."

"Honestly? Not much. We'd never been on vacation before and I thought… I thought I went home because I had to go back to school and she didn't come back because she was on our trip without me," Toby admits sheepishly. "She tried to kill herself, after that, so they moved her to the psych ward."

"Oh my god," Spencer gasps. "Then what happened?"

"Well, she actually _did_ kill herself," Toby sighs. "And then my Dad remarried and forgot it ever happened. So… Basically, my family's no better than yours."

Spencer smiles a bit sadly. "Damaged goods. Both of us."

He gives a rueful laugh. "Yeah. You can say that again."

"I have to be completely honest with you," Spencer says after swallowing a bite of food she'd nearly forgotten about. "You are not at all like the guys I usually date."

He asks, "How so?"

"Well, the ones I always end up with are always… I don't know. _Different._"

"Yes," He teases, nodding. "I know exactly what you mean, now."

She laughs. "Okay, they're all corporate-drawn and loud and in-your-face about their interests. They're story-toppers, usually, and most of the time they're kind of… I don't know, inconsiderate? I guess I never realized how I had a type I was drawn to until just now. And I'm wondering why I'm drawn to them, because it never lasts and they always suck."

He laughs, too. "If it makes you feel any better, I've never dated anyone longer than a couple of months. I always get tired of the girls I date because they're just so… One-sided, I guess? They want me to do everything but they never reciprocate. They always want to go out all the time and show up other couples, for some reason, and they always feel the need to play the victim card whenever we have an argument."

"Oh my god, I _hate_ that," Spencer laments. "I dated this one guy who blamed me for every single fight we ever had. Didn't matter if it was trivial or huge, somehow, it was always my fault. Even when he cheated on me with some chick from his office! He said it was because I didn't 'satisfy his needs' and he needed to 'pursue his interests elsewhere.' Simply put, he was a dick."

"A cowardly dick," Toby notes. "But I know what you mean. My most recent girlfriend played jump rope with the normal behavior line. She wanted to redecorate my apartment after only a week of knowing each other and when I asked if it was because she was thinking of moving in, she freaked out and thought I was asking her to, and then told me it was way too soon for that. But then, literally the next day, she told me she loved me and freaked out _again_ because I didn't say it back."

"Wow, she sounds super clingy," Spencer says. "Or like she belongs as a permanent fixture on Barney's Hot-Crazy scale. Oh, sorry, Barney from-"

"_How I Met Your Mother_," Toby finishes her thought. "I know. I loved that show. Except for the ending."

"Oh, no, we don't talk about the ending," She shakes her head. "Terrible. They seriously undid everything they built up for nine years in forty two minutes."

"It was almost as bad as _Dexter's_ ending, but I don't know if anything can top that tragedy," Toby says. "Did you watch that one?"

"Of course. It was _such_ a solid show," Spencer shakes her head. "And then they ruined it like _that?_ Seriously. I was angry about it for years."

"Okay, wait; real question, now," Toby braces himself. "_LOST_\- good ending or bad ending?"

"Oh my god, _so_ good!" Spencer exclaims and Toby grins.

"Good!" He cheers. "I thought so too!"

"I am convinced that people who hated the ending didn't fully understand it," Spencer announces firmly. "Because seriously, _how_ could you possibly hate something that beautiful?"

"By thinking they were dead the whole time," Toby answers. "That's what the haters think, right?"

"Obviously," Spencer chuckles. "It's not that hard to figure out. All you have to do is pay attention."

"People don't want to think, though," Toby says. "They watch TV to relax and when there's thinking involved, god help humanity."

She nods. "I totally agree. It's crazy."

A throat is cleared from above them and their waiter is glancing impatiently at them. Spencer shoos him away politely. "I think we're all set for now, but thank you."

"It's twelve-eighteen," He says instead and both Toby and Spencer balk at the time.

"It is?" Toby exclaims. "Our reservation was for seven-thirty."

Spencer smirks. "Oops. I'm sorry, sir. What time do you close?"

"Eleven," The waiter frowns and then they feel even worse.

"I'm so sorry," Toby insists. "We'll be on our way."

They scramble up and head for the door, noting the empty tables and wondering why they hadn't noticed this earlier. Just as they're about to leave, Spencer remembers, "Wait, we never paid the check."

"It's on the house," Their waiter pleads with them. "We're just trying to clean up and go home."

"Well, thank you," Toby calls back. "And… We're sorry, again!"

They stroll down the abandoned streets afterwards and try to come to terms with the fact that they'd easily just talked for hours upon hours and it had merely felt like a few passing minutes. When they approach the parking lot where they're both parked, Spencer hesitates and admits, "I kind of don't want the night to end."

"Me either," Toby agrees. "I had a _really_ great time tonight."

"Me too," She smiles. "I think it's safe to say Emily was right about us."

"Yeah," He chuckles. "But don't tell her that; it'll only encourage her."

She laughs softly. "You have my number?"

"I do," He nods confirmation. "We have to do this again soon; I'll call you."

"I have your number, too," Spencer smiles coyly. "Maybe I'll call you."

He grins and it instigates her smile to widen even further and they can't distinguish who leans in first, but they're kissing within moments. Their lips meet beneath the silky silvery moon and the black expanse of sky and the sparkling post-midnight stars, and if this were a movie, fireworks would be going off in the distance while a sappy love ballad played in the background. It's that kind of kiss; a groundbreaking, life altering, end-all, be-all kiss that leaves all others that they'd ever shared with anyone else in the dust. His hands are soft and insistent upon her waist and hers have started by framing his face and have since clasped behind his head, her arms woven around his neck. When their lips part, they're left in a hazy, romantic fog, and both of them are wondering why they haven't been doing this all along.

Spencer speaks first, her voice soft and dreamlike. "Thanks for a great night."

"No, thank you," Toby replies as they part ways. "It's the most fun I've had in a long time."

* * *

It's almost one a.m. when Emily receives the text- _Where have you been hiding him all these years?_

She laughs and sends back, _Date go well, Spence?_

_Well? He's perfect! Legit cannot sleep. Can't stop thinking about him_.

Emily takes a moment to cheer victoriously- and also give herself a point. She is _so_ going to make a fortune off of this. _You're welcome. What did I say? You two are meant to be_.

And moments after she hits send, her phone buzzes with a call from the man in question. "Hi Toby. How was your date?"

"_I don't even have the words to express_."

"That bad, huh?" Emily teases and she can hear him grow impatient.

"_I give you permission to play the 'I told you so' card._"

"Good, because I'm going to play it for the rest of your lives," Emily sighs happily. "Didn't I say she was perfect for you?"

"_Yes, but you failed to mention how smart she is and how funny she is and that she's absolutely beautiful… Emily, I could kiss your goddamned feet._"

She chuckles. "That won't be necessary."

"_I hope she doesn't think I came on too strongly. I mean, we talked for hours and then that kiss_-"

"Ooh, you kissed too?" Emily implores. "It must've gone well, then."

"_Well? It was amazing. Mark my words, Emily- I'm going to marry her_."

Emily smiles warmly. "I'm holding you to that."

* * *

And he does.

In fact, they're married the very next year. Emily makes a grand speech at the wedding about how she'd never seen two people more in love and more in tune with one another than her two very best friends.

They find themselves expecting their first child not long after; a baby girl they plan to name Emma Leigh Cavanaugh.


	10. i just got lost

**Hello folks! How are you all on this fine Monday morning? I'm pretty good, except for the fact that I got my schedule for next week and it looks like hell. I'm pretty sure Disney is trying to kill me. It's fine. Thank you for all your wonderful reviews on the last chapter! I'm so glad you enjoyed their little blind date, mostly because it was happy, right? There wasn't a tragic ending like a lot of the others. I wish I could say the same for this chapter LOL.  
**

**This is the last one that's totally tragic, I promise. I have a few more that are a bit bittersweet, but nothing life-ruining, scout's honor. It's kind of crazy that we're actually at the halfway point, now. But I'm excited for you guys to see the the second half of this story, because I believe them to be better than the first set of ten. I finished writing the final two chapters (yay!) a couple days ago, so hopefully I'll be able to update more often. That's the goal, anyway.**

**Today's chapter title comes from "The World Spins Madly On" by The Weepies and today's AU is meeting in a hospital. I hope you like it; it's one of the ones I'm proudest of. And I hope you'll continue to read, because we've got some fun adventures coming up in the next few chapters. Please enjoy, please give me all the feedback, and I'll see you soon! :)**

* * *

i just got lost and slept right through the dawn

The morning after his eighteenth birthday, Toby Cavanaugh wakes with the sunrise and swallows half a bottle of lithium. He's actively trying to die and to be perfectly honest, this isn't the first time he's tried. He's never been successful. He wakes two days later in the hospital, connected to multiple beeping machines, with a doctor beside him telling him he's lucky to be alive. Yeah. That's exactly what he was thinking. His stomach feels like a black hole- side effects of the pumping, no doubt- and his head is swimming and he just wants it to be over. Many times he considers yanking out his own IV or ripping out his arterial line or reaching over and switching the ventilator off. He doesn't but not because he's suddenly gotten the will to live, or anything. It's because he's in a hospital room surrounded by nurses and he knows he's constantly being watched.

He's been in the hospital three days when one of the RNs suggests he try to get up and walk around. Toby doesn't see the point; it isn't like he has any visitors and it's the middle of winter, so the air is cold and stale and it's absolutely freezing outside. She insists. So he stands, painfully, and gets lightheaded immediately. The nurse tells him she's going to give him twenty minutes and ushers him out of the room, warning him not to get himself in trouble. Toby doesn't even see how that's possible. He's been in the ICU; it's not like he's on some street corner, selling crack. But nevertheless, he shuffles out of the room and walks slowly down the hallway, paying no mind to anyone he sees. At the end of the long hallway is a waiting room and there's no one in it, but there is a giant metal door and Toby wonders what's behind it. He can see the promise of the outdoors and does everything he can to open the door, but it's electronically coded; without a badge, he's not going through it any time soon. This doesn't stop him from trying; he tugs, pulls, shoves, slams and even tries to rig something in between the door and the wall. One way or another, he's escaping this hellhole.

"What are you doing?"

He stops and turns around, caught in the act. There's a girl about his age watching from the archway and she's dressed in the same ugly hospital gown he is and wheeling an IV beside her. Her chestnut brown eyes twinkle in the daylight and Toby sucks in a breath. "Making my great escape. Don't tell anyone."

She crosses her arms over her chest. "What's in it for me?"

"Um…" Toby trails off. What could he offer her when he had nothing at all? "You can have my pudding."

"No way," She shakes her head. "A week ago, I would've gladly made that trade, but they have since changed to tapioca and that shit is _disgusting_."

He lets her words sink in a moment and finds himself smiling. "What did they have before?"

"Butterscotch," She grins and then nods over her shoulder. "And if you really want to get out of here, there's a door on the other side of the elevator between rooms 656 and 658 that'll take you all the way down to the ground floor. The doctors use it when they're swamped between rounds, but there's rarely anyone in there. You probably wouldn't even get caught. I'd change, though. You don't blend in."

Toby chuckles. "You seem to know this place pretty well."

She nods, guilty. "I'm, uh… I'm a regular."

He begins to head in the direction of the other door before turning and asking, "Are you not coming with?"

She shakes her head. "Nah. Can't really afford it. What are you in for, anyway? I find it's better just to accept your fate than run but that's just me."

Toby sighs. "I swallowed a bunch of pills. Now they're waiting for all the toxins to leave my system so they can transfer me to the psych ward for evaluation."

Her eyes widen. "The _psych_ ward? Now that's fun. Definitely never been up there before; I'm afraid you're on your own with that one."

"Yeah, well, I have," Toby tells her. "And trust me, it's no picnic."

"I'll take your word for it," She says. "And you did this intentionally?"

"Yeah," He replies sheepishly and when she says nothing more, he adds defensively, "What? You've never felt like you had nothing to live for anymore? Like your death would finally be an end to all the pain?"

She grows quiet. "No. Of course I have."

"But you've never tried to do anything about it," Toby finishes her thought and she nods wildly. "Then what are _you_ in here for?"

"Well…" She trails off and looks skyward. "It started off with acute myeloid leukemia and I had a bone marrow transplant that completely knocked me out, but I was fine for a few years, until they found a hard lump underneath my skin. They removed it and did all these tests and it turned out not to be cancerous, but in the time they wasted focusing on that, my leukemia came back with a vengeance. And then a few weeks ago I was having these awful headaches and nosebleeds that I thought were just part of the treatment they were giving me, but it turned out to be an inoperable brain tumor. So… That's why I'm here."

"Oh…" Toby finds himself saying and he's surprised he can even manage that. "Oh holy shit."

"Yeah," She nods and he doesn't know how her voice can be so steady after all the things she's just said. "I've been given three weeks to a month. But that was four months ago and I've had some moments where it looked like it was the end, but… I'm still here."

An alarm suddenly goes off and Toby whirls around in every direction but the girl before him doesn't even flinch. She shrugs. "That's just an alert reminding me it's time for another round. I've got to go."

"Wait," He halts her. "My-my name's Toby."

She grins and he feels foolish; they'd spoken about things strangers would most likely never confess and yet, they hadn't thought to exchange their names. "I'm Spencer. And I'm in 670, if you ever want to chat again."

She turns to go and calls back, "Unless you're done with this place and you're going to escape. Then in that case, good luck. And remember, change your clothes!"

She's gone in an instant and Toby's interest is instantly piqued, but he also feels incredibly guilty. He'd tried so hard to die and here Spencer is, fighting so hard to live.

* * *

He begins to see Spencer much more often and each time is different from the last. There's something about her- he hasn't quite placed his finger on it- that intrigues and excites him and every time they plan to meet up, he spends the moments before in eager anticipation. They talk about mindless things and poke fun of their doctors and watch TV in the waiting room together, even though it only plays in Spanish. And suddenly, he finds himself referring to her as his friend whenever his doctors or nurses ask and it's a breakthrough, really, because he's never had one before. All his life, he's been invisible, shrouded in a deep darkness that had always consumed him and he'd never been able to escape. But she sees him; she hasn't _stopped_ seeing him since they met and Toby keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, for her to see him as the freak he's always felt like, but her smiles remain genuine and her desire to hang out with him never wanes.

They make plans to meet in that waiting room one day and by now, Toby's been moved to the psych ward, so it's a bit harder to escape than his regular ICU room had been. But he does as he's asked with good behavior; he takes his pills and doesn't try to hide them beneath his tongue as some of his floor-mates suggest and he compliments the nurse on her new haircut even if it does make her look like a cartoon character. She can sense he wants something, but he's definitely much less of a threat than some of his counterparts, so she agrees to release him downstairs for an hour. Toby nearly kisses her in gratitude and is out of there before anyone can second-guess her decision. Spencer isn't there when he arrives and he waits a good fifteen minutes before he hears the squeaky wheels of her IV cart on the overly polished floors.

"Hey, you're late," Toby teases. "I thought we said four o'clock?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry," She says, her voice raspy. "I couldn't get away sooner."

"Tell me about it," He sits upon the couch. "I had to beg that old nurse upstairs by telling her that her new haircut looked good even though she now looks like Ursula the sea witch."

Spencer smiles slowly and only then does Toby notice how pale she is, the sweat upon her brow, the unparalleled exhaustion in her eyes. He frowns. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," She nods and comes to sit beside him. "It's just… It's not a good day."

He hesitates. "Cancer-wise?"

"I spent the morning in chemo and the afternoon puking out my insides," She elaborates. "Same old, same old."

"I'm sorry," Toby frowns. "Do you want to go back to your room and rest? We can do this another time."

"No," She's quick to assure him. "I'm alright now. Can we just do something to take my mind off of it?"

"Sure," Toby agrees. "_El amor y la medicina_ is on, but I think this is one we've already seen."

"The one with Ignacio's love child?" Spencer questions, glancing at the television. "I don't know how Raquel didn't see _that_ coming. He sleeps with everything that moves."

"And she's engaged to Tomas anyway," Toby shrugs. "Girl needs to get her life together."

Spencer chuckles. "What else can we do? I don't want to re-watch Spanish soaps. How pathetic is that?"

"Well, let's see what we have here," Toby hops up and heads over to the shelf by the window. "_People_ magazine, _Highlights_, _Where's Waldo_…"

"Read it, read it, found him," Spencer lists. "What else you got?"

"There's a couple of board games," He suggests. "Candyland, Connect Four, Scrabble-"

"Ooh, Scrabble!" Spencer exclaims. "Let's play that. It's my favorite game."

"Really? I never would have guessed that," Toby says, producing the game board and setting it out before them. "You seem like more of a Monopoly kind of girl."

"No," Spencer shakes her head, shaking the bag and choosing seven tiles. "Monopoly is a piece of shit game that goes on for eighteen years and ruins lives."

He stares at her, bewildered. "So, you lost."

"I did not lose," Spencer corrects him. "Technically, we never finished playing because I threw the game board at my sister and all the pieces went everywhere."

Toby laughs. "You did not."

"I did," She smiles sheepishly. "I got in _so_ much trouble for that."

"Well, please don't throw the board at me when I beat you," Toby pleads. "I bruise like a peach."

"First of all, I was, like, seven when I did that," Spencer replies. "And second, _when_ you beat me? Don't you mean if?"

"No," He shakes his head. "I'm really, really good at Scrabble."

"How can you be 'really, really' good at a game that's up to chance?" She giggles. "That's not even possible."

"That's what you think now," He says. "But just wait. You'll see."

"Whatever you say," She smiles and leaves it at that.

They're about halfway through the game when she grows quiet and introspective and just downright _off_ again. She excuses herself to use the bathroom and returns a bit worn out, a bit sweaty, but mostly okay again. Toby doesn't have to ask to know what she'd been doing. They've never talked about it, the reasons they're both in here, but he supposes they can't dance around the subject forever. She catches him staring and raises her eyebrows and Toby addresses the inevitable. "Are you okay?"

"Sure," She nods. "Put down ninety six points for me."

"No, I mean…" He shakes his head as he scratches down her score. "Are you _okay_? Anyone else in your situation would be… Well, they wouldn't want to keep going. But you… You're not like that."

"Toby," She replies. "Did you know that I've been given last rites three times?"

He shakes his head again. "No."

"I have," Spencer continues. "The last time, it was really bad. I had been in a coma for a week and my blood pressure was low and it looked like it was really the end. The priest came in and said a prayer over my body and my doctor looked at my parents and said, 'If you want to be here for her final moments, don't go anywhere, because you're going to lose her tonight.' They sent my sister to get the dress I was going to wear to homecoming and had already picked out the casket and the floral arrangements and then the three of them just stood there and watched me breathe super slowly for twelve hours straight. And you know what happened next?"

He can barely find his voice. "You didn't die."

"I woke up," Spencer says. "I woke up, looked all around the room, and asked when they were going to remove the ventilator, because it hurt my throat and made it feel like an elephant was sitting on my chest. No one knew what to do. My parents were relieved, obviously, but I think part of them really wanted me to go that night. For my benefit, because I wouldn't be in pain anymore, but also for theirs, because they had made peace with it; they were ready. And they've done this three times now and each time, I come back. Each time, they expect to lose me and when they don't, I think it might even be more emotionally traumatizing than if they actually had."

"They're tough," Toby notes. "But not as tough as you."

"I'm not ready," Spencer shrugs. "I'm trying to see as much as I can. I know I'm going to die; that's kind of inevitable when your blood and brain are rebelling against you. But I'm going to stick it out; I'm going to fight it as long as can. So, if it's rough on my parents and sister… Oh well. It's rougher on me."

"That's true," Toby agrees. "You're amazing, though. I hope you know that."

"I'm just doing what anyone would do," She plays it off. "I've never let anyone tell me how to live my life and I'm not going to start now."

He takes her hand in his, words failing him now, and she smiles at him. He smiles back.

He also beats her at Scrabble, but, as promised, she doesn't throw the board.

* * *

Toby's fast asleep, dreaming about the day when he isn't surrounded by walls of white, needles and prodding nurses, when he hears a faint tapping sound he assumes is part of the dream. It grows louder, more insistent, and his foggy, post-sleep mind forces consciousness upon him. It's barely three a.m. and he doesn't know what's happening at first. The door to his room is pushed open moments later and Toby sits straight up, rubbing his eyes blearily, and wondering if Wandering William from down the hall has escaped his confines once again. He pushes back the starchy sheets and slips his feet into his shoes as his eyes adjust to the darkness. Spencer's standing there before him, a sneaky, mischievous grin on her face, and beckoning him to come along.

"What's going on?" He asks worriedly. "What are you doing here?"

"I can't sleep and I'm starving," She tells him. "So your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to help me find where they're hiding the _good_ pudding. I'm sick of the cold meatloaf and the sticky mac and cheese and that God-awful rice pilaf. You in?"

He's still dumbstruck. "How did you get up here without anyone noticing?"

She isn't wheeling an IV along with her anymore, but now she's got a cannula and a rolling oxygen tank. It's not like she's invisible. But she just shrugs. "I figured it out. It's not that hard, really. You're wasting time. I have a doctor coming in to check on me at five."

"Okay, okay," He agrees and follows her as she darts out of the door. "Where are we going?"

"To the kitchen," Spencer says shortly. "Not the cafeteria- that's a trap."

"Aren't they connected?" He wonders as they head down the hallway, towards the elevator.

"Yeah," She says as though it's obvious. "But everyone knows they keep all the good stuff in the back."

"And what happens if we get caught?" Toby asks.

She snorts. "We're not going to get caught. It's not my first time."

"Oh really?" He chuckles. "Sorry, I didn't realize I was dealing with a seasoned professional."

She grins. "I've been here for months. I've got to entertain myself somehow."

Spencer grabs his hand and the handle of her oxygen tank and they sprint in the direction of the elevator. She presses two buttons- one for the main level, where the cafeteria is, and one for the oncology floor. They reach the latter floor first and when Toby shoots her a look of confusion, she elaborates, "I just have to make sure Dr. Richards isn't on rotation. Guy's a Nazi."

"And if he is?" Toby implores.

"Then I'm going back to my room, pudding-less," She explains. "And you're shit out of luck."

He laughs. "So it's every man for himself here?"

"That's life," Spencer shrugs. "Right?"

"Right," He rolls his eyes, grinning.

The doctor she fears is missing in action, so it's all systems go as they head back into the elevator and plunge to the very first floor. It's empty, barren, and when they creep back to the cafeteria, there are bars on the entry, like a store in a shopping mall, closed for business. Toby turns to Spencer and asks, "Now what?"

"Please, you think we're going in the front entrance like a couple of Average Joes?" She smirks and crouches to the floor, yanking his arm. "Get _down_. Third shift is here making breakfast and we can't risk being seen."

"I am so confused as to what's happening here," Toby says. "I just thought you should know."

Spencer feels around the floor beneath the metal bars and grins when she's found what she's looking for. It's an L-shaped hunk of metal and a bobby pin. "Just follow my lead and if you're seen, pretend like you're sleepwalking. It gets them every time."

They creep around to the side entrance, where Spencer bends the bobby pin and sticks it into the lock, twisting it open. She ushers him inside, follows, and then sticks the L-shaped bar in the doorframe. "This door locks from the outside. The last thing we need is to get trapped in here."

Toby's eyes are wide as he takes in the shelves and shelves of food. "Really? I can think of worse things."

Spencer chuckles. "Oh yeah. I keep forgetting you're a first-timer. Okay, this is where they keep the _actual_ food. You won't find any stale bread or hard-as-a-rock brownies here."

"I didn't know this magical place existed," Toby says. "Do you come here often?"

"Not often enough," Spencer shakes her head. "It's not any fun coming alone."

Toby smiles and she glances away, perhaps a bit embarrassed. He doesn't know why; it's pretty safe to say they feel the same way about each other. He asks, "So… pudding?"

"Yes, pudding," She shakes her head. "That's in the back."

And when they find it, they hit the jackpot. Spencer looks as though all her Christmases have come at once. "Oh my god, forget butterscotch. They have _chocolate!_"

"I haven't seen chocolate pudding since… elementary school?" Toby says, snatching a cup for each of them. "Seriously, is this a _Snack Pack?_"

"I can't handle this," Spencer replies, yanking the plastic film off and taking a lick. "This is delightful."

"We don't have spoons," Toby frowns, but Spencer shrugs.

"I know," She dips her pointer finger into the dessert and licks it clean. "Welcome back to childhood, my friend."

He beams and follows suit. They sit there on the dusty kitchen floor for what seems like hours, eating chocolate pudding with their fingers and laughing until the sun begins to awaken in the east. They hold hands the entire way back to the elevator and all the way up to the psych ward and Toby pokes her side and teases, "So nice of you to see me to my doorstep."

"Well, what kind of date would I be if I didn't make sure you got home okay?" She giggles and he grins, too. "It's a little gender bent, but I've always been one for feminism, anyway."

"Oh, then you probably wouldn't like it if I kissed you," Toby shrugs. "I mean, that's what usually what comes after traditional dates where I'd open up the car door and walk you to your front porch."

"Actually," She counters. "I would like that very much."

"Well that settles it, then," He says and steps closer just as she does the same, their lips meeting somewhere in the middle.

It's soft and slow and purely perfect; she tastes like chocolate and he finds himself bringing her closer, even closer still, and she brings her hands up to frame his face moments after. They kiss once, twice, three times, and then he loses count and loses himself to her. His heart is pounding and his brain is screaming and even his lungs are getting in on this- probably begging for oxygen, but he doesn't care- and Toby's never felt this way about _anyone_ before and he's certainly inexperienced in this area, but she doesn't seem to mind. Her eyes are filled with tears when they pull away and for a split second, Toby panics that he's done something wrong or that in some awful way, he's hurt her even more.

"I'm sorry, are you okay?" He asks instantly. "I'm sorry. I'm so-"

"Toby," She stops him, shaking her head. "Don't be sorry. It was perfect and… I really, really like you."

"I really like you, too," He sighs in relief. "You scared me."

She shakes her head and kisses him quickly before she heads back for the elevator and he swears he sees a tear fall down her cheek as the doors close behind her.

* * *

After three weeks in the hospital, Toby is given a clean bill of health and is slated to return home the very next day, armed with a prescribed bottle of antidepressants and a warning not to come back. If anything, this is just bad news; for once, he finally feels like he's in a place where he belongs and these past few weeks with Spencer have easily been the best weeks of his life. When he tells her, she grows very quiet and solemn and he does everything he can to assure her he'll visit her everyday, school and real life be damned. She nods, just nods, and says nothing; he can't pretend he doesn't notice that she's deteriorating, but she's been strong for so long, he knows she'll make it through this next bout of heavy illness just like she had the last three. Her resilience is so endless, so astounding, and it's something that he likes, maybe even loves, most about her.

The night before he leaves, they meet on the roof of the hospital, another hidden staircase she'd shown him earlier that evening, claiming she'd saved the best for last. They've brought pillows and blankets and they're laying on the roof, staring up at the stars, arms fully around one another. Spencer's breathing is low and labored and Toby tries to pretend it's because they'd climbed six flights of stairs, not because her body's slowly giving up. They're quiet a long time before Spencer asks, "Can I ask you a question? And you don't have to answer, but I've just been wondering a while."

"Sure," He nods. "Anything."

She inhales and wonders, "Why did you try to kill yourself?"

Toby exhales heavily. "Do you want the short answer or the long one?"

She eyes him. "What do you think?"

He sighs. "All my life, I felt like I was out of place; like I was stuck somewhere that I didn't belong and even the people who were _supposed_ to care, my parents, didn't give a shit. My Mom used to preach all of this shit about everything happening for a reason and what goes around, comes around and if you don't like the heat, then stay out of the kitchen, but she was just talking in clichés. And I guess I never really understood it until after she was diagnosed… And then she died."

"How'd she die?" Spencer asks in curiosity and Toby frowns, feeling ashamed.

"She killed herself," He answers. "She was bipolar and she went on a really bad manic episode once that left my Dad no choice but to commit her. She lasted two weeks in that place before she hung herself. And that was hard enough, you know. It was enough to deal with. But my Dad… He always told me it was my fault; that she was perfectly normal, didn't show any symptoms, until after she got pregnant and then once she had me, the pressures of motherhood were too much for her and she just sort of… snapped."

"Oh, Toby," Spencer frowns. "That's not true. It can't be."

"Well, he certainly believed it was," Toby says. "And when you're told your whole life that you're the reason your Mom's crazy, you start to believe it too."

"I'm sorry," She says, her voice breaking. "I'm so sorry."

He shakes his head. "That's not the end. Less than a year after my Mom died, he starts seeing this woman named Denise. She's completely useless and has zero personality, so of course my Dad marries her. She brings her daughter and they both move in and… Jenna, my new stepsister, takes this weird liking to me. And then she makes a move and…"

"A move?" Spencer's face screws in confusion. "Like a romantic one? Even though you're now kind of related?"

Toby nods ruefully. "And I let it happen. I let it happen over and over because she'd said… She'd said she'd tell our parents that _I_ forced myself on her. And I couldn't do anything about it because I knew they'd take her side; I knew they'd believe her. I had no one to turn to, no one to talk to… So finally, I found an old bottle of my mother's medication and… I swallowed it."

"Toby," Spencer's voice breaks over his name and he realizes she's crying just a bit. "That's the most heartbreaking thing I've ever heard."

"I didn't mean to make you cry," He shakes his head, wiping the remnants of tears off her face with his thumbs. "But you've been so brave and so strong while you were in here and I'm not nearly as tough as you… Or even half as resilient."

She swallows hard and says, "That's not true. I don't think you tried to die because you were weak. I think you did it because… Because you were exhausted. Sick and tired of being _too_ strong for too long."

He sighs, contemplating this. He'd never thought of it that way. Spencer then asks, "Who found you?"

"I don't know," Toby shakes his head. "The doctors never told me and my Dad never visited."

"Never?" Spencer's eyes widen in shock and in anger. "Why not?"

"He's probably sick of having basket cases for family members," Toby shrugs. "Can't say I blame him."

"I can," Spencer growls. "You're all he has left and he doesn't even have the decency to visit you in the hospital at a time like this?"

"Spencer," Toby quiets her. "It's okay."

"No, Toby," She sighs, heartbroken. "It's really, really not."

He doesn't try to argue with her; in the past three weeks, he's learned it's pointless. The moment passes and a bit later, Spencer points towards the sky and exclaims, "Look! A shooting star."

"Wow," Toby says just as he catches the tail end of it. "I've never actually seen one before."

"You have to make a wish," Spencer tells him, her eyes screwing shut. "Make it a good one."

He thinks just a moment and nods. "Okay, done. What did you wish for?"

"Are you kidding?" She shouts. "I can't tell you. Then it won't come true."

"Come on, I think it's pretty safe to say we know each other's secrets, now," Toby reasons. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

Spencer hesitates, but nods slowly. "Okay, fine."

"I wished," Toby begins. "For you to live."

"Oh, Toby," Spencer's eyes fill with tears. "That's what I wished for you, too."

* * *

He loses her a week later, on a Monday morning, just before the sunrise. The night before, he could almost tell it was nearing the end; her breathing was nearly nonexistent and her eyes were droopy and slow, virtually seeing through him. He'd kissed her and ignored the nagging feeling that this was their last time and he swallowed past the lump in his throat as he whispered that he loved her. Perhaps it was too soon, but was there really a "too soon" when he knew he'd be losing her any second now? And if he feels it so strongly, who is anyone else to define "too soon"? She hadn't repeated the sentiment but she didn't have to; he knew she felt it too. Instead, he watched in agony as her eyes began to leak silent tears, just as they had after they'd first kissed, and he said goodbye moments after. Hours later, her mother had called and told him she was gone.

On the morning of her funeral, Toby wakes, dresses in his nicest suit and stares at his pale, emotionless reflection in the mirror. The bottle of lithium is still there, still half full, and he laughs sardonically, because even after he'd tried to kill himself, his father hadn't had the sense to dispose of the medicine and prevent it from happening again. He holds it, turns it over and over in his hands, and seriously contemplates it for a solid ten minutes. Months ago, he would have easily swallowed the second half, no questions asks. But now… The desire is gone and he can only assume she's the reason why. Instead, he drives to the church, has to pull over twice to wipe the tears out of his eyes and pull himself together, and finds her family, who beckon him to sit with them, up front. Melissa asks if he'll say a few words on her behalf and he nods easily, even though he's prepared absolutely nothing.

He stands shakily and the church is eerily silent. It's open casket, and when Toby peers into her sweet, angelic face, he almost loses it all over again. "Hi, I'm… I'm Toby Cavanaugh. Most of you don't know me and I bet you're sitting there wondering why they let some random kid come up here to talk about Spencer Hastings, a girl you all loved. I loved her too. I may not have known her for very long… But that's just how special she was."

"I met Spencer in the hospital," Toby draws in a deep, shaky breath. "It was only a little over a month ago. I um… I was a patient there, too, but for purely selfish reasons. And then I met Spencer- we were both in the ICU and she just had this raw magnetism about her that I couldn't stay away from. She was funny, she was kind and she… She didn't judge me for who I was. She didn't try to shame me for the stupid things I'd done. She just accepted me and it was the first time I'd ever felt that kind of acknowledgment pretty much in my entire life. And it took me a bit to realize it, but that's just who she was."

"Spencer's the kind of girl you could fall in love with upon meeting her," Toby pauses a moment to wipe a tear off his cheek. "The very first time we met, she didn't ask me why I was trying to break out of the hospital. Do you know what she did instead? She offered tips. She gave me pointers. She told me the door I was trying to use wouldn't budge, but the one in between the elevators would lead me right out. Once, she was so hungry, the two of us went down to the kitchen and ate pudding with our fingers like little kids. She was much stronger and much more mature for her age than I could have ever imagined, but she also had this adorably hysterical childish side that would come out whenever you watched TV or played board games with her. Although, never Monopoly, because in Spencer's words, that's a piece of shit game that ruins lives."

A few people chuckle and Toby smiles a bit. "That's who she was. She was just… extraordinary. And I'm lucky I got the chance to know her, even for a little while. She was beautiful and strong and fiercely resilient and I couldn't compete with that in a million years. She fought for so long and she fought _so hard_, that part of me is glad it's finally over for her. But… I wish she were still here. I wish she always would be. I wish that cancer had never come for her and instead had taken someone less extraordinary; someone who wanted to die as much as Spencer wanted to live."

He exhales shakily and concludes, "She inspired me. She kept me strong. She showed me the light when my life was nothing but darkness. And I'm thankful for her every single day. Knowing her was a great pleasure and I'll never know another like her. It isn't fair that her life was cut short and the rest of us have to go on without her. But… I'll do my best."

Toby turns to face her again and whispers, "Goodbye, Spence. I love you and… I'll miss you _so_ much."

Without another word or even a glance in the rest of the church's direction, Toby turns blindly and heads for the door. It's too much; it's all too much and he can't see through the ocean of tears clouding his vision. He speeds down the aisle, pushes open the doors and waits for them to slam shut before collapsing onto the stairs and breaking down in sobs. He doesn't know what to do; he'd never had someone that had meant that much to him and he was just beginning to get used to it when life decided to take her away. And he loved her; God, he loved her. He never knew he could feel something so strongly as the way he loved her. With her, he'd felt like flying, but now he's alone again, and he's crashing to the ground and exploding into flames, all of his nerves alive.

And then, realization dawns upon him. Spencer had cried after their first kiss and had cried when he told her he loved her, too; it wasn't because she was upset, or frightened, or regretful. It was because she _knew_; she knew he was falling in love with her and she knew she was falling, too, but the difference between the two of them is that he wasn't leaving her behind. He remembers talking about her family and how she thought her constant near-death experiences were taking their toll on them and he remembers how she confided not long after that she wished she could end her family's suffering. _Of course_ she would cry after their intimacy; she didn't want to destroy him in the process. She couldn't deny her own feelings, but she knew she was hurting him simultaneously, because no matter what happened, their story never had a happy ending.

Toby's still weeping moments later when the church doors open again. He glances up, attempts to control himself, and three girls around his age approach him gently. One of them sits beside him and places a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Toby, what you said in there was really beautiful. I hope you know Spencer felt the same way. She never stopped talking about you."

The blonde nods her agreement. "It was really sweet. She was totally love-struck."

"I'm really glad she got it, you know," The petite one chimes in. "That fairytale romance everyone dreams of."

Toby doesn't know many fairytales that end like this. He sniffles and nods politely. "Thanks, I guess."

"My name's Emily," The brunette sitting beside him introduces herself. "And that's Hanna and Aria."

Toby nods. "Yeah. Her best friends. She mentioned you a bunch of times. I'm surprised our paths never crossed."

"Me too, actually," Hanna agrees. "Maybe Spencer did that on purpose."

"You never know with her," Aria smiles sadly and her eyes grow teary once again.

"Look, Toby, I hope you don't take this the wrong way," Emily says. "But Spencer had mentioned that you were kind of alone lately and, well… We want to get to know you better."

"And it wouldn't just be us, or anything," Hanna is quick to assure him. "You'll meet my boyfriend too. He's really great; I think you guys would really get along."

"We could just hang out," Aria suggests. "We could go to the movies or get food or even just talk, you know? We just don't want you to ever feel like you're alone again because we've all been there and, frankly, it sucks."

"Bottom line is, Spencer loved you," Emily states. "And we want to, too."

He smiles a bit. "Okay. That sounds good."

They return to the church together, cry together, and mourn together. It's a weird feeling, being surrounded by people actively trying to be his friend, and Toby can safely say it is entirely new to him. But he isn't surprised that Spencer had sent her friends to watch over him since she cannot; that's the kind of person she was. Loving, caring and kind, even from the grave. He isn't sure what his future holds, but then again, this is nothing new; he never had. But he somehow finds himself bearing a strange but wonderful feeling of peace. He doesn't know where he's going in life and he doesn't know where he'll end up, but he does know one thing for sure- he's going to _live_. More than that, he _wants_ to.

Somewhere, Toby's sure Spencer is smiling.


	11. i've got nothing left to lose

**Hi friends. I'm back. Thank you for all your wonderful reviews on the last chapter! I'm sorry I had to kill Spencer to get them lol. Breaking news- no one dies in this chapter! Hurray! I hope you guys like it. If there's one chapter I worked the most on, it's the vampire one. But next in line would be this one. It took me two, two and a half weeks to write? Which is longer than really any other chapter has ever taken me before. Hopefully it wasn't in vain. :P  
**

**The chapter title comes from "Who Are You, Really?" by Mikky Ekko and today's AU is Spoby as spies. Yes, you read that right. Spies. Or, really, spies in training, but spies all the same. I paired them up with Haleb because that's my OT4 (I wish they'd do more shit on the show; legit, if 5B was just Spoby and Haleb double dating or hanging out or literally just staring at each other, it would've been better and more relevant than the shit they gave us). Hopefully you enjoy! Let me know either way? Love you guys!**

* * *

i've got nothing left to prove 'cause i've got nothing left to lose

Duct tape is torn from her mouth in a harsh ripping sound and she gasps and hisses in pain, tears welling in her soft, chocolate eyes. It's dark and she can't see a single thing, but her wrists are bound behind her in a taut rope and there's a coppery smell to the air- blood, perhaps? She squirms and tries to wriggle herself free, but it's a lost cause; she's going nowhere. As her eyes adjust to the darkness, she begins to make out the concrete walls that trap her in and a hanging cord just above her head. An arm extends into her line of vision and yanks on the cord and the room is bathed in a weak sheen of light, not incredibly bright, but enough to make her eyes squint painfully, her pupils retracting to their normal size. The arm belongs to a heavy-set man with tattoos on his knuckles and when he grins menacingly at her, she realizes he's missing three teeth.

"Welcome to Neverland, darling," He croons, his voice gravelly. "_Peyton!_ She's awake!"

Another man enters the scene a second later, this one taller, rougher-looking, and from what she can tell, probably meaner. "Sophie… I'm glad you're finally with us."

She frowns and asks, "Who are you? Where am I?"

"Whoa, slow down," He grumbles, kneeling before her. "Why don't we just relax and try to have a conversation? Just get to know each other."

"I don't want to know you," She struggles against the ropes on her wrists. "I want to go home."

"Sophie, how old are you?" The tall man asks. "Eight? Nine?"

"I'm eleven," Sophie scoffs. "Duh."

"Right," He says. "Then you're probably too young to understand foreign policy. Let me explain-"

"I don't care," Sophie cuts him off. "Take me home. _Now_."

"See, I can't do that," He shakes his head. "We're gonna keep you right here until we get what we want from your Daddy and then maybe, just _maybe_, we'll let you go home. Or, maybe we'll hang you up from the ceiling and use you like a piñata. You know what that is, don't you, Sophie?"

Sophie aims a kick right into his face and grins as she watches him howl in pain, blood erupting from his nose. He swears, "You little bitch. Clarke, her _feet_, you asshole!"

The heavy man uses the extra rope to attach her legs to the chair as well. Sophie insists, adamant, "You've made a terrible mistake, you know. My Dad's pretty powerful; I bet he's got people coming for me right now."

"For your sake," He growls. "You better hope that's true."

* * *

"Good afternoon. As you are all aware, my name is Mr. X and the four of you have been chosen for your assessment a bit early in your schooling, but as the opportunity has presented itself, we could not turn it down," The man introduces. "You all made the commitment when you began learning that upon the end of your lessons, you would, under close supervision by yours truly, complete a mission of my creation to prove your skills were set in stone. Despite next week being your actual final week of schooling, the mission presents itself now."

The four adolescents nod their understanding. Mr. X continues. "I have chosen the four of you from your two separate schools because each of you have demonstrated qualities that I believe will be the utmost beneficial to complete this mission."

"From St. Anthony's Academy, I have chosen Spencer Hastings and Hanna Marin," Mr. X addresses each of them. "Miss Hastings, you have been chosen based upon your intellect and quick-thinking in times of struggle. Do you accept?"

She nods quickly. "I do, sir."

"Fantastic," He says. "Miss Marin, you have been chosen based upon your keen interpersonal skills and the sheer bravery you have exhibited in the past. Do you accept?"

"Yes, sir," She says firmly.

"Great," Mr. X moves on. "From the I-CON School, I have chosen Caleb Rivers and Toby Cavanaugh. Mr. Rivers, you have been chosen based upon your logic and reasoning as well as your strong ability to manipulate electronic devices. Do you accept?"

"Yes, sir," He agrees. "I do."

Mr. X nods and adds, "And finally, Mr. Cavanaugh. You have been chosen based upon your physical endurance as well as your sensational surveying skills. Do you accept?"

"Yes, I do, sir," He nods.

"Then it's settled. Allow me to walk you through your mission," Mr. X begins and pulls up a photo of a young girl on the projection screen. "This is Sophie Desjardins, the daughter of the Prime Minister of France. A few days ago, there was a conference in Washington D.C. at the United Nations. Mr. Desjardins had a few of his guards and service agents take Sophie all about the town to keep her occupied, but instead, they ended up dead and Sophie is nowhere to be found."

"We believe she's been kidnapped by members of a German gang in protest of France's new foreign policy," Mr. X explains. "We don't know how powerful these men are, but they've risen in the past few weeks and are only growing stronger by the minute. How many of them have Sophie in captivity is unknown as is their whereabouts, but that is what you four are going to find out."

"Now, we don't expect you to bring these men to justice," Mr. X smiles almost patronizingly. "We'll save that for someone with just a bit more experience. But we do expect you to bring Sophie home safely. Unnecessarily exposing yourselves to the danger these men exude or failure to heed my warnings will result in the revoking of your equipment and the expulsion from school. Understood?"

All four nod simultaneously. "Good. You have twenty-four hours to pack anything you may need for the journey. I will be sending you an undisclosed location where we'll be meeting before heading for D.C. You are dismissed."

They file into the hallway and the door is shut firmly behind them. Not one of them speaks until they're outside in the warm Pennsylvanian sunshine, but then Hanna squeals, "I can't believe this is happening! Our very first case!"

"Hanna, be cool," Caleb scolds. "Come on, when we get this girl back, we're going to graduate and get the _real_ missions."

"Well, sorry for being excited," Hanna defends herself. "But I was getting really sick of those night-vision classes in the gym and rappelling down the side of our dorm. We're going to get to do these things for _real_, now."

"Who just kidnaps an eleven-year-old like that?" Spencer frowns. "She's defenseless."

"That's the point, isn't it?" Toby wonders. "I mean, they're trying to get to the Prime Minister. The best way to take out the offense is to go for their only weakness."

"Yeah, but why bother with the kid?" Caleb agrees. "Why didn't they just go straight for him?"

"Are you guys seriously trying to come up with a motive for kidnapping?" Hanna deadpans. "How about they're _fucking_ crazy? And angry, by the sounds of this whole foreign policy thing. When you mix anger and insanity, it's just a giant recipe for disaster. It makes people do stupid shit."

Spencer pauses a moment and then sits on the lawn before them, yanking her laptop out of her bag. Toby smirks and asks, "What are you doing?"

"Searching for abandoned warehouses and foreclosed homes and empty buildings in D.C.," She answers as if it's the most natural thing in the world. "Look, if they're going to kidnap someone, especially someone as high-profile as Sophie, they're not going to bring her back to some place that just anyone could find. But if we can find a pattern between these places, maybe we can secure a general area they might be in."

Toby's amused. "You know we don't have to start right away, right? We don't leave until tomorrow."

"Yeah, and by tomorrow, Sophie could be dead," Spencer argues. "We don't know how many of them there are and we don't know what they're capable of. If we don't get a head start, we could be finding her body."

"Wait," Caleb sits beside her. "If you hack into the government's database, you can get a PDF of Desjardins' itinerary from the day and we can figure out where his guards were so we can check the security cameras."

"Do you think I'm a rookie?" Spencer rolls her eyes. "I did that already. I couldn't get into the international system, though."

Caleb chuckles and motions for her computer. "Then yes, I think you're a rookie. Give me that."

He snatches the laptop into his lap and his fingers fly over the keys for a moment before the screen grows dark. Spencer frowns. "Great. Now look what you did."

"Patience, dear," Caleb teases and types in an access code made of a jumble of numbers and letters. "See? No problem."

"Oh my god," Spencer exclaims, reclaiming her computer. "How did you do that?"

Caleb shrugs. "You want me to share my secret? And give away the one thing that makes me beneficial to the group? No way."

"Oh, come on, you're good for more than just that," Toby jokes. "I mean, if you were gone, what else would Hanna have to stare at?"

"Leave me out of this," Hanna playfully swats him. "Besides, you do _plenty_ of your own staring, Toby. I'm surprised you've even noticed there are other people here."

He shoots her a look. "You're on my list, Marin."

She giggles. "So, nothing new, there."

"Okay, according to the itinerary, Desjardins' guards were at the Smithsonian, the Lincoln Memorial and were just outside the Capitol when the kidnapping took place. They arrived at the Capitol at four p.m. and police responded to gunfire at four twenty-three, so it's safe to say the kidnapping happened between those two time marks."

"Thousands of people visit the Capitol daily, though," Toby says. "And it isn't like we'll be able to run prints, or anything. What are we supposed to do?"

"Ask for the security tapes from every place they visited that morning," Spencer says as though it's obvious. "We'll watch all of them and see if we can find anyone watching the guards and Sophie or following them or something. There's got to be _something_ there. How else would they know who to target or where they were going to be?"

"I guess that makes sense," Caleb shrugs.

Hanna shakes her head. "This is hurting my brain. Can we go pack and get food and _then_ talk about this?"

Spencer rolls her eyes, a smile on her face. She folds the laptop back into her satchel and nods. "Sure. Catch you guys later?"

They agree and begin to part ways and as an afterthought, Toby calls out, "Hey, Spence. Wait a minute."

She turns on her heel to ask, "Yeah?"

He balks and realizes he has nothing say; he just hadn't wanted her to go just yet. "I, um… I'm really glad we were both chosen for this mission."

She smiles warmly. "Me too. We'll get to spend more time together this way."

Toby nods. "I'm looking forward to it."

Spencer agrees. "So am I."

* * *

They awaken at six a.m., all their gear packed and ready for them to use, and meet Mr. X at a corner store, abandoned months ago and slated to be turned into a coffeehouse in the near future. It's a cold morning; frost colors the thin patches of grass, promising a harsh winter up ahead, and as they jog towards the empty building, their breaths are visible before them. The four adolescents enter through the back discreetly and find Mr. X waiting for them in a suit and tie right in the middle of the floor. They nod in greeting and stand before him quietly, awaiting further instruction. Mr. X addresses each of them before presenting them with a portfolio inside a manila folder with all the information they'll need along the way.

"Consider this the beginning of your mission," Mr. X instructs. "I will be checking in with you as you go on from time to time, but as of this second, you four are on your own. Sophie Desjardins' life is in danger and it is up to the four of you to bring her back safely."

"Excuse me, sir?" Spencer says. "I've been doing some independent research on the German gang, Kronos? They've done some pretty nasty things. The leader is this guy named Peyton Schmeling and he has a record a mile long. I'm afraid if he's the one who took Sophie, he'll kill her before we can act. I feel like it's almost better if we go after him first and get Sophie afterwards. If we don't, she's going to suffer and he'll get away."

"I've actually created a GPS tracking chip," Caleb puts in. "If we can get close enough to him to insert it-"

"Hold on," Mr. X halts them. "What did I inform the four of you that your mission was?"

"To retrieve Sophie safely," Hanna answers quietly.

"And what did I say your mission was _not_?"

"To take down the gang," Toby sighs. "But sir-"

"There's no ifs, ands, or buts about it," Mr. X shakes his head. "You are simply not qualified to carry out such a task."

"Sir, with all due respect, you taught us yourself," Spencer argues. "And you wouldn't have chosen us if you didn't think we were capable."

"And I do think you're perfectly capable, but let's take small bites of the elephant, here," Mr. X tells her. "I have professionals in place to deal with Peyton and the rest of Kronos. Keep your research, Miss Hastings, on the topic at hand."

"But how are we going to get Sophie if we don't know what we're dealing with?" Hanna asks. "We won't even know which protocol to follow."

"Follow the protocol I and the rest of my educational team taught you when dealing with a hostage situation," Mr. X scrubs a hand over his face in frustration. "Look, we don't have time to waste arguing about this. You'll do what I asked of you or I'll find someone else who will."

Spencer shakes her head. "But sir-"

"No more buts, Miss Hastings!"

A clicking sound resonates from outside the walls. Toby glances over his shoulder and his eyes widen. "Um, guys?"

"Come on, Mr. X, you're being unreasonable!" Hanna complains. "How are we supposed to do one without the other?"

Toby tries again. "Guys?"

"Treat the men of Kronos as if they were any other run of the mill antagonist," Mr. X frowns. "Do you understand me? _Do not get involved_."

"Guys," Toby interrupts and they finally turn their attention towards him. His voice is low when he says, "Don't look now, but we've been made."

"What?" Caleb wonders. "What are you talking about?"

They all turn in the direction of the glass windows just as one of them shatters and the glass rains down around them. Toby shouts, "Get _down!_"

Bullets ring throughout the air, hitting the walls, the tables and chairs, and the dusty light fixtures as their five bodies dive to the floor. Over the gunfire, Hanna shouts, "I think they found us!"

"Yeah, we're off to a great start," Caleb agrees. "We have to get out here _now!_"

They army crawl towards the back storage room and just as Spencer reaches for the door, a bullet splinters the handle and it comes away in her hand. She's shaking when Toby asks, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," She answers automatically, her voice betraying her. "Yeah, no, I'm fine."

Instead, they huddle in a mass in the center of the room and then, as quickly as it had begun, the gunshots end. There's silence and carnage and Caleb leaps to his feet to survey the area, just as Hanna panics, "Caleb! What are you doing?"

"We're clear," He shrugs. "They're gone."

"Let that be a lesson to all of you," Mr. X hisses, standing and brushing himself off. "You do _not_ entice them further, understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Your mission is Sophie," He continues. "Not _them_."

Caleb, Hanna and Toby nod. Spencer purses her lips and says nothing.

Mr. X turns on his heel and heads towards the exit and as Spencer scrambles to get up off the floor, she realizes she and Toby are holding hands.

* * *

"So I've been thinking," Spencer announces after a beat. "We need to learn more about Kronos."

"Spence," Toby sighs. "You heard what Mr. X said. We don't get involved."

"Yeah," Hanna agrees, turning in her seat. "Today was the only time I ever want to be dive-bombed by a bunch of gunfire. No thanks."

"Guys, he said that to protect us," Spencer states and the others stare at her.

"Exactly," Toby nods. "What's your point?"

"My point is, we were tasked with the mission to protect Sophie," Spencer explains. "And how are we going to protect her if we know next to nothing about the people who have her?"

"I guess that makes sense," Caleb shrugs. "But shouldn't we focus on the kid?"

"Well, yeah, obviously," Spencer nods. "That's why I think we should split up."

"Oh, like a task force," Hanna says and Spencer agrees. "So two of us will focus our energies on finding and retrieving Sophie and the other two will focus on distracting Kronos and maybe taking them down?"

"Yes," Spencer states adamantly. "And when we combine our efforts, we'll kill two birds with one stone and Mr. X will forget all about how he told us not to do this."

"Or," Caleb suggests. "He'll be so pissed, he'll go to our headmasters and have us all expelled and we'll never become full-fledged spies."

Spencer pauses a moment and shakes her head. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

"Well as much as I don't want to break the rules, I think this is a really great plan," Hanna says. "And I'd like to be on Team Sophie. I'm good with kids."

"Hanna," Caleb chuckles. "She's like eleven."

Hanna shrugs. "I'm good with pre-teens, too."

"Okay, you two take Sophie, Toby and I'll take Kronos," Spencer assigns. "We'll show Mr. X what we can and can't handle…"

Hanna rolls her eyes and Caleb chuckles, shaking his head, as they turn in their seats to talk strategy. Toby peers out the plane window at the tiny towns and roads below and the clouds they're floating through before asking, "You don't like being told what to do, do you?"

"I don't like being told what _not_ to do," Spencer corrects. "Look, I understand his intentions, honestly. But how does he expect us to only do half of a mission? I don't half-ass anything."

"You don't say?" He implores teasingly. "Is that why you want to become a spy? To prove something?"

"I've got nothing to prove," Spencer shrugs. "I want to be a spy because I want to help people and they have a less conventional way of going about it. There are virtually no rules. I don't like rules."

"Funny," Toby admits. "You always kind of struck me as the kind of person who would _make_ the rules, not break them."

She shoots him a look. "Well then, maybe that's what I have to prove- that I'm not some stuck-up preppy who only cares about grades and extracurriculars and what their parents and teachers think of them."

"Whoa," Toby holds up his hands in defense. "I didn't say you did any of those things."

"I know. I'm sorry," She shakes her head. "It's kind of a sore subject for me."

"Family pressure?" He asks and she nods slowly. "Yeah, I get that. Just remember I'm on your side here, okay?"

She smiles slowly. "Thanks."

He nods. "So what do we know so far about Kronos?"

Her eyes seem to sparkle. "I'm glad you asked."

She pulls a notebook out of her carry-on and begins to detail every little bit of information that she'd found right before him and Toby can't help himself but grin, because he's never seen Spencer happier than when she's on a mission. Her eyes are alight with excitement and she's speaking animatedly and, call him pathetic, but he's finding it very hard to focus right now. In moments, the pilot announces they're making their final approach on D.C. and turns the seatbelt light on minutes later. When they land, the four gather their things and exit in a timely fashion, already on alert, as if Kronos and Sophie would be waiting for them after they've disembarked.

Hanna's the first to ask, "So… What now?"

"I think he's for us," Caleb points towards a man in a suit and dark sunglasses, looking as though he's just stepped off the set for _Men in Black_. He's holding a sign that reads '_XYZ_' and when they approach him, he holds one hand out to stop them.

"Are you them?"

"Yes, sir," Spencer nods. "Mr. X sent us from the Academy and from I-CON."

The man lowers his sign and crosses his arms. "Then you must know the code."

"The code?" Spencer questions. "I don't think he mentioned one."

"You could be teenagers on a field trip for all I know," The man says. "You have to know the code if I'm going to give you his message."

"So what's the code?" Hanna implores and the man grins.

"That's what you have to tell me," He replies. "Look, if you're just wasting my time here-"

"Un deux trois quatre cinq," Toby says suddenly and the man grins.

"What?" Spencer exclaims in surprise. "It's just counting to five in French?"

"No," The man negates and then hands an envelope to Toby. "Stick with this one. He understands."

He walks away from them, out of the airport and into the sunlight, as Spencer and Hanna stare at Toby, dumbfounded. "What the hell was that?"

"Seriously," Caleb chuckles. "I can't believe you two don't know the code."

"Well, enlighten us, wise ones!" Spencer shrieks. "No one told us the code!"

"Why would they tell you guys and not us?" Hanna shouts. "This is ridiculous."

"I had to think about it for a moment," Toby says. "It was in Basics so long ago… But I was pretty sure that was it."

"So it's just counting to five?" Spencer asks. "How stupid is that?"

"No, it's not," Caleb shakes his head. "It's the answer to a riddle."

"A riddle?" Hanna eyes him strangely. "Yeah, okay."

"It is," Toby nods. "There's three cats and they're competing in a race. There's an American cat named 'One two three,' a German cat named 'Ein zwei drei,' and a French cat named 'Un deux trois.' The cats all swim across a lake; the American cat finishes first, the German cat finishes second, but the French cat is nowhere to be found. Why?"

"Because," Caleb finishes. "The un deux trois quatre cinq."

The girls stare at them a moment before Spencer states, "That's _ridiculous_. Who came up with that?"

"Mr. X himself," Toby shrugs and tears open the envelope. "And by this letter, we're supposed to meet him in the back alley behind the train station in twenty minutes, so you can tell him how stupid his code is."

Spencer shoots him a look. "Don't tempt me; I totally will."

Hanna bites her lip a moment before saying, "Am I the only one who totally didn't get that?"

Caleb chuckles and explains it a little better as they hail a cab and head in the direction of the train station. It takes them twenty minutes just to find the back alley, as the building throws them for loops and takes them through twists and turns, obviously meant for keeping people out of it. It occurs to them that this is the exact reason why Mr. X would choose such a place for their meeting, as he's determined to keep them out of the public's eye. When they finally reach the alley, it's littered with trash and smells strongly of engine fuel, but Mr. X is nowhere to be found. A large green dumpster marks a dead end on the opposite side of the alley and they head towards it blindly. And when they approach it, they find Mr. X.

Spencer notices him first and gasps, "Oh my god."

"Oh Jesus," Caleb hisses. "What the hell?"

Mr. X is slumped over, a knife through his heart, blood bubbling from his mouth and dripping steadily onto the pavement. Spencer squeezes her eyes shut and buries her face in Toby's shoulder as his arm comes around her, shielding her from the sight. "Oh shit."

Hanna's gripping Caleb's hand anxiously as she says, "What do we do? Do we call it in?"

"And call attention to ourselves?" Spencer asks. "No way."

"Well then, can we get out of here?" Hanna begs impatiently. "Please?"

The three turn away just as Caleb steps forward, Hanna shrieking, "Caleb! Come on!"

"There's something on him," Caleb calls back and pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket. He wraps it around the knife and gives a tug; it comes loose and he's able to slip the piece of paper off of the blade easily. His eyes widen when he reads it and he turns so his colleagues can indulge in the message as well.

It's written in blood- _X marks the spot. Don't stay. You're next._

* * *

"Okay, I don't know about you guys," Hanna says. "But I think I'm ready to go home."

Toby slips the room key into the door and pushes it open. "We can't give up already. We just got here."

They pour into the hotel room as the door shuts behind them. Hanna shakes her head. "I don't care. I wasn't planning on risking my life."

"What did you expect this was going to be like?" Caleb asks her. "We were just going to show up at Kronos headquarters and they'd hand us Sophie with roses and an apology?"

Hanna glares at him. "_No_. But I also didn't think we'd find our fearless leader skewered in alley with a warning note predicting our death!"

"Not going to lie to you, it's a setback," Toby nods. "Kind of a major one. I guess we're on our own now. What do you think, Spence?"

She nods quietly. "Yeah. Yeah I guess so."

"You'd think _you'd_ at least be excited," Hanna shrugs. "We can do what we want now; get Sophie, go after Kronos, whatever."

"Excited?" Spencer asks, pained. "Hanna, a man's _dead_."

"I didn't mean excited about that," She frowns. "Ugh. We're back at freaking square one again. We know nothing, we have nothing… How are we possibly going to pull this off?"

"The same way we were going to do it before, Han," Caleb tells her. "We're going to put our brains together and think of something."

"We're _screwed!_" She shouts. "We don't know where they are! We're never going to find them!"

"That's not true," Caleb disagrees. "I took the little welcoming present they left us."

"The note?" Toby asks.

"Yep," Caleb nods. "And the knife. If I can lift some prints, we might be able to at least track down a who, if not a where."

"Now you're talking," Toby grins. "See Hanna? We're getting there. It might be slow, but you've just got to have a little faith."

"Whatever." She shakes her head. "I'm going to go take a shower. I smell like airplanes and death."

She turns in the direction of the bathroom as Caleb pops some ear buds in and begins to get to work. Spencer is sitting on the edge of the bed, staring out the window, and Toby can't read the expression on her face. He sits beside her and notes, "You've been quiet. You okay?"

"Mr. X is dead," Spencer shakes her head. "Of course I'm not okay. I mean, obviously I knew how powerful these guys were, but I don't think I ever expected… I just didn't know it was going to go this far."

"I know," He rubs her back a little. "It was a shock for all of us. But we're still going to get to the bottom of this. We're going to get Sophie back."

"Yeah, but…" She trails off a moment. "Who's going to tell us what we should be looking for? Who's going to point us in the right direction? Who's going to guide us?"

"You're Spencer Hastings," He offers. "You don't need _anyone_ to tell you what to do, remember? You already know."

"This is different, Toby," Spencer sighs. "This is a life or death situation and I don't know if I'm ready for this."

"You are," He assures her. "Trust me, you are. Mr. X chose you for a reason. He saw a lot of potential in you. If he hadn't thought you were right for the job, he would've picked someone else."

She glances at him. "You think so?"

"I know so," He affirms. "And he made the right choice, I promise you."

"I was so annoying, though," Spencer says. "He kept telling me not to get involved with Kronos and I kept pushing against him… I kept insisting that we do it anyway. I'm so stubborn."

"Yeah, you are," Toby chuckles. "But you get shit done. And I think he always knew that; it's part of the reason he picked you. You don't take no for an answer. And that's a good thing, especially now."

She smiles slowly and says, "You're always so nice to me. I want to keep you around forever."

He grins. "I have absolutely no problem with that."

She leans in or he does or they meet somewhere in the middle; in any way, their lips meet and it feels familiar, like they've been doing this all along. After a moment, Caleb clears his throat and says, "I can't hear you, but I'm still sitting right here."

They break apart, blushing furiously, and Spencer laughs a bit. "We could've picked a better moment."

"I think the moment was perfect," Toby grins. "It's the audience we could've done without."

She grins, too, and for a moment, everything seems magnificent. But then she hears it- a slow, but steady beeping sound ringing into the late afternoon. The smile slowly fades and she asks, "Do you hear that?"

Toby nods a bit. "Yeah. What is that?"

"That beeping noise…" Spencer trails off and as she walks past Caleb, she tugs on his headphones. "Caleb, there's a weird sound."

He joins in on the search party and moments later, Toby's found the source. It's coming from the closet, from the in-room safe, and when he opens it, he discovers a bomb. His eyes widen. "Oh my god."

"Oh my _god!_" Spencer shrieks. "How much time?"

"Forty-five seconds," Toby says. "We have to get out of here."

"Where are we going to go?" Spencer asks. "We won't make it outside and far enough away in forty-five seconds!"

Caleb turns and bangs on the bathroom door. "_Hanna!_"

"What?" She calls back, a bit muffled.

"Get out of the shower!"

"_What?_" Hanna screams back. "No!"

"Hanna, get out of the shower _now!_" Caleb insists and when he hears the water shut off, he races back to his computer. "I found the fingerprints in the system, I just need to get the name."

"You have thirty-eight seconds," Toby says and then tosses the bomb onto the bedside table as though it's on fire. "Why am I still holding this?"

"We have to go," Spencer repeats. "We have to get out of here."

"How?" Toby asks. "There's no way."

Hanna yanks the bathroom door open, clad only in a towel, hair dripping down her back, and asks, "What the _hell_ is going on?"

"Remember when Kronos said we're next?" Caleb asks her and then nods towards the ticking time bomb. "Well, we're next."

"What the _fuck?_" Hanna screams. "Why are we still here?"

"Where are we going to go?" Toby asks in panic.

"We have to jump," Spencer states, standing by the window. "We'll go out on the balcony and… jump, I guess."

"Jump?" Hanna exclaims. "We're on the tenth floor! We'll die!"

"We're dying either way," Spencer sighs. "Do you want it to be quick and painless or… quick and… and painless."

"Oh my god," Hanna groans. "Oh my god!"

"We have twenty-five seconds," Toby announces and then inspiration strikes.

"Wait!" Spencer says. "Let's pull the mattress off the bed and use the sheets as a kind of… air buffer? It might soften the blow and the mattress is thick enough that we probably won't kill ourselves."

"Wait, that's not a bad idea," Caleb agrees. "I mean, it's not a _good_ idea, but it's all we've got."

They get to work, stripping the bed as Hanna throws clothes on her still-wet body. Shoving the door open, they balance the mattress on the edge of the balcony and Caleb runs back inside. "I have to write down the names!"

"Caleb, hurry!" Hanna insists.

"Ten seconds," Toby says and turns to Spencer. "On my back?"

"You don't have to tell me twice," She climbs up and braces herself as he grips the edge of the mattress.

"Caleb!" Hanna shouts and he's scribbling furiously on a sheet of paper.

"I have two left!"

"Come _on!_"

He slips the piece of paper into his bag of supplies, tosses the bag onto his back and assumes the same position as Toby. "On three?"

"I don't even know if we have that long," Toby shrugs. "Let's just go."

"Oh my god!" Hanna shouts one last time and then they're off.

They sail downward and their screams are drowned out by the rush and roar of the explosion.

* * *

Toby awakens in a daze and for a moment, he doesn't know where he is. There's a terrible pain coursing through his left arm and he realizes he must be in the hospital, because it's so incredibly bright the moment he opens his eyes. But the first thing he sees is Spencer and he can't say this is an unpleasant way to wake up. She sighs in relief and grips his hand. "Thank god you're okay. You've been unconscious since the explosion. It scared the crap out of me."

"Sorry," He says and his voice is thick and unnatural. "What's up with my arm?"

"You dislocated your shoulder," Spencer answers and only then does his vision clear and he notes the deep purple bruise around her eye.

"What happened to your eye?" He asks in concern and she smiles sheepishly.

"You dislocated your shoulder into my face," She replies and giggles the tiniest bit.

"Oh my god," He groans. "I'm so sorry."

"Are you kidding? We jumped out of a building from the tenth floor and escaped with only a dislocated shoulder and a black eye," Spencer says. "We should be dead."

"Are Hanna and Caleb okay?" He then asks and Spencer nods.

"Hanna split her lip so hard, she needed stitches," She answers. "Caleb's got a few broken ribs. But we made it. We're all mostly okay."

"And we're not giving up?"

"No way," Spencer tells him. "In fact, Caleb got the who and while you were being treated, I got the where."

His eyes widen. "You did?"

"They're in a warehouse on the edge of town," Spencer says, a bit hushed. "There was a mark on the edge of the paper they left us, the one with the death threat? It was a snake with daggers for fangs. That's the Kronos logo. And when I ran it through the system, I found that same print on the side of a building in east D.C. We're headed there as soon as you guys are cleared."

Toby smiles, shaking his head. "You're too smart for your own good."

Spencer shrugs. "Anyone could've done that. You rest in the little time you have, okay?"

About an hour or so later, the four of them depart the hospital in search of the abandoned warehouse. It's off the beaten path and difficult to spot, but when they've located it, they prepare for takeover. After a quick perimeter search, it appears to be mostly empty; if they were expecting a hostile situation, they can pretty much cross that off the list. There's no one around to stop them from going inside, so they do. And when they find a darkened hallway with a door at the end, they assume this must be where they're keeping Sophie. Spencer slips a pin into the lock and they're in within moments. A young girl is tied to a kitchen chair in the middle of the room and her eyes are fearful at first at the foursome arriving.

"Hi, Sophie, right?" Hanna addresses. "I'm Hanna and this is Spencer, Caleb and Toby. We're here to take you home."

Toby kneels before her and very gently peels the duct tape off of her face. Surprisingly, the young girl smiles and says, "I knew you'd come."

"I'm going to radio the helicopter," Caleb says. "Hanna, they'll take off from the roof, so you'll get her up there?"

"My pleasure," She nods as she and Spencer begin to undo the bindings.

When she's free, Sophie stands, a bit wobbly after so long being forced to sit, and Hanna grabs her hand, darting towards the hallway to ascend to the roof. Caleb follows not soon after and just then, a door on the opposite wall opens and a heavy-set man enters the scene, grabbing Spencer by the wrist just as she tries to escape. "Now, what do we have here, hmm? Superheroes coming to save the day?"

Toby turns and advances on them. "Let go of her."

But the man raises a gun in his direction and shakes his head. "Let's not come any closer than that, alright? You're good right where you are."

"Get your hands off of me," Spencer struggles against him and the man chuckles.

"What kind of host would I be if I didn't get to know my guests?" He says. "My name's Clarke. What's yours, sweetheart?"

She says nothing and he brandishes the cool metal of the gun against her temple. "I said, what's yours?"

"Spencer," She emits through gritted teeth.

"Spencer," Clarke says, trying her name for size. "That's a pretty name. Pretty name for a pretty girl. And what about your friend over there?"

"It's Toby," He snarls. "And I swear to god, if you don't let go of her-"

"You'll do what?" Clarke chuckles. "Bring a knife to a gun fight?"

"Toby," Spencer says. "Just go."

He glances back at her, bewildered. "Are you kidding me? I'm not leaving you."

"Aw, did you hear that? He's not leaving you," Clarke teases, cocking the gun against Spencer's skull once more. "But we didn't say anything about you leaving him, now did we?"

"Don't," Toby shakes his head, pleadingly. "Please don't."

But Spencer is remarkably calm. "Toby, go. Just go."

"I can't," He disagrees. "I can't leave you like this."

"Aye matey," Spencer then says and his confusion increases exponentially.

"Aye matey?"

"You heard me," She nods. "Now _go_. Go!"

With one last look, he takes off down the hall and Clarke asks, "Aye matey? You a pirate in a past life?"

"Something like that," She mutters. "Now can we just get this over with already? Shoot me and be done with it."

"Nah, I ain't gonna shoot you," Clarke says, taking the gun off of her and slipping it into the back pocket of his jeans. "That show was just for lover boy over there. It's up to Peyton what he wants to do with you."

"And Peyton is your leader?" Spencer asks. "So… Where is Peyton now?"

"He's right here," A tall man answers, entering the scene. "Wondering who the fuck you are and where you put Sophie."

"Oh, Sophie's on the way back to her father, where she belongs," Spencer replies and extends a hand towards him. "And Spencer Hastings, by the way. Pleasure."

Peyton ignores her hand instead grabs her shoulders, holding her fiercely up against the wall. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"I think I am Spencer Hastings," She answers calmly. "A special agent employed by the U.S. government to perform a search and rescue mission on Sophie Desjardins."

"Oh really?" Peyton grins wickedly. "And who do you think I am?"

"You are Peyton," Spencer says. "You're the head honcho of Kronos, I'm assuming, and you're in a lot of legal trouble."

"No," Peyton shakes his head. "I'm pretty sure I'm Peyton, the one who got away with Spencer Hastings' murder."

"You're not going to kill me," Spencer shakes her head and he frowns.

"How do you figure?"

"Because," She states simply. "All I have to do is say the words and my team will come busting through to capture you."

He smirks. "Oh really? And those words are?"

She smiles. "Aye matey."

A crash from above is heard and the entire ceiling crumbles through. Spencer's ears are ringing, but she grabs Hanna's extended hand from above and the bungee cord attached pulls her upward. Military agents from all branches flood the scene and take Peyton and Clarke into custody, and the former glares menacingly at Spencer as she waves goodbye tauntingly. The French prime minister is there, reuniting with his daughter on solid ground once more, and he takes turns thanking and embracing each of them for safely returning his daughter. They're presented with awards and told their mission is complete and when all is said and done, Toby turns to Spencer with a look of awe on his face.

"Aye matey?" He wonders. "What the _hell_ was that?"

"Oh, you didn't know?" She smirks. "We have a code, too."

"Yeah, Hanna explained it's the one for danger," Toby says. "But what does it mean?"

"It's a riddle, just like yours," Spencer says. "What does a pirate say when he turns eighty?"

"Aye matey," Toby answers and then chuckles. "Wow. That's worse than ours."

"I don't know, they're both pretty bad," She grins. "We can thank Mr. X for that."

He loops an arm around her waist and brings her closer. "You scared me earlier. Sending me away? I thought he was going to kill you."

"Toby, I always have a plan," Spencer insists. "I was trying to get you to go fast enough so you could tell Hanna said plan."

He grins. "You're unbelievable."

Spencer chuckles. "Well, you better get used to it. This was the first of many, _many_ missions to come."

Toby nods and says, "As long as I get to keep doing them with you, bring them on."


	12. it's the heart that really matters

**Good morning! Hopefully you're all doing well. Thank you for all your wonderful reviews on the previous chapter! I was hoping you'd like it; I had a good time writing it. This chapter is by far the longest. Why? I don't know. We deal with some heavy stuff (still not heartbreaking, but bittersweet, if you will) and I couldn't just glaze over it, you know?  
**

**Today's chapter title comes from "Little Wonders" by Rob Thomas and the AU we find ourselves in today is having a child with a disability. That's all I'm going to say for now. Enjoy, leave a review, don't... You do you. Love y'all.**

* * *

it's the heart that really matters in the end

When Spencer learned she was pregnant a second time, and when she and Toby learned they were having another girl, she made a silent promise to herself- no, a vow- to do anything she could to not turn out like her parents. Given her difficult upbringing in a house where she was always the problem child, Spencer decided from that very moment that she'd never, _ever_ compare her two girls. They're bound to be two completely different and equally incredible human beings and she'd never do anything to pit them against each other. And so, she accepted the news a bit anxiously- it was always her deepest fear to have two girls, ever since the beginning- and prepared herself to love each of them unconditionally.

She did pretty well, for a while. But soon, it became unfortunately inevitable that she compare the differences between her two little ones. Their first little girl, Ava, had been an incredibly easy baby. She'd been quiet and calm and loving and wanted an endless amount of hugs and kisses and snuggles. She spoke her first word while she was still crawling and was speaking in full sentences by the time she was two. She potty-trained early, just after her second birthday, and sat quietly in nice restaurants and hit all her milestones before the weeks they'd expected them. The only thing working to her disadvantage is her cocktail of personality traits she'd inherited from her parents; introspective and almost painfully shy from her father mixed with her mother's extreme anxiety made it difficult to live her life as a normal four-year-old, to make friends at pre-school, to join in on otherwise fun activities. But she's sweet and kind and helpful and before the birth of their second child, Spencer found herself smugly comparing other children- the screaming toddler at the grocery store or the one who bit other kids at daycare- to Ava and coming up victorious. She is, in a word, perfect.

And she tries not to for so very long, but eventually, she gives in. Ella is not like her sister. It hurts her very soul to admit this, but from the day her youngest daughter was born, Spencer found it almost difficult to bond with her. She was colicky and cranky and when she craved the hugs and cuddles her parents were so desperate to give her, it never seemed to calm her down. Her screams were deafening and many, many times, Spencer and Toby were fearful their neighbors would call the police, thinking some malice must be happening to the poor child who screams like she's on fire. She'd sat and crawled and even walked when she was supposed to, but as for speech, her first words went unheard until well after her first birthday, and then again, they weren't really words to begin with. At two, she isn't doing any of the things Ava had done at this age; in fact, she isn't even responding to her name. Fearing she's deaf, Spencer and Toby take her to an audiologist, but she tests completely negative for any hearing impairment. Stumped, they remain unsure of what to do and the audiologist gently mentions bringing her to a pediatrician for an evaluation. Ella falls asleep in her mother's arms that night and Spencer's heart swells twice its normal size. The love she feels for this little girl is different, but just as great as her love for Ava. Ella is a different kind of perfect, but perfect all the same.

This morning is a crisp one in early September, the week before Ava starts pre-k. They have plans to go apple picking for some family time and it's already chilly, so Spencer makes sure to zip Ella into the coat that won't make her scream like her skin is on fire. Toby buckles her into her car seat because he's the only one who can buckle her into her car seat; she shrieks and cries and strains against the restraints if Spencer does it and if Ava tries to help, Ella bites and claws and hisses. But, they're on their way; Ava excitedly buzzes about their trip the whole way there, telling her younger sister everything she has to look forward to. Whether or not Ella understands what her sister is saying is irrelevant; she knows Ava's excited, so she's excited. When they arrive, dark storm clouds are beginning to roll into the sky above, but Spencer will be damned if they threaten to ruin their Saturday morning fun.

They grab a basket and a wagon from the front and trek into the orchard. Ava immediately panics, "The trees are too high!"

"That's what we have Daddy for," Spencer teases. "He's our own personal ladder."

"I knew that was all I was ever good for," Toby plays along and lifts Ava into the air. "Pick a good one, princess."

Ava takes the task to heart. She plucks one off the tree and decides, "This one's too red."

"Too red?" Spencer chuckles. "There's no such thing."

"This one has leaves on it."

Toby laughs. "We can pick them off."

"Ew!" She suddenly shrieks. "This one has a worm in it!"

"Ella's much less picky," Spencer notes and watches as their younger daughter picks the squishy reject apples out of the grass and lines them up in a perfect row in their wagon. "Good job, Ells! Do you want to put some in the basket?"

She's completely focused and instead goes back to ordering them the way she likes them. After she's got a completely straight line of apples, she giggles and jibber jabbers away in her own language. Spencer takes the moment to snap a picture and when she turns, she finds Ava still hasn't chosen the perfect apple. "Aves, Daddy's arms are going to break off."

"Okay, this one's good," Ava finally decides and after her mother captures this moment with a picture as well, Toby places her back on the ground and she adds the apple to their basket.

"Ella's turn!" Toby announces and then freezes. "Where'd she go?"

"What do you mean? She's right…" Spencer trails off and her heart begins to beat a bit faster. "Wait, she was right there. She was next to me. She was lining up the apples and I took a picture and then…"

"She's not here anymore!" Ava shouts.

"Oh my god," Spencer groans, but Toby squints and points towards the edge of the tree line.

"I think she's over there."

Spencer spots the flash of her daughter's purple sweatshirt just in time. She takes off running, because this kid has made a beeline for the busy road and no doubt would be a pancake within minutes. For a two-year-old, she's outrageously fast and Spencer steps in a pothole and nearly breaks her ankle, but she snatches her daughter just moments before she's reached the edge of the road. Her heart is pounding and her breathing is heavy, but Ella grins at her mother in greeting as though she's seeing her for the first time in a long time and it makes her insides melt. She begins spouting off babble after babble and pauses after to wait for a response, but all Spencer can do is kiss her forehead and pull her in for a hug. There's her heart attack for the day.

When they return to Ava and Toby, Ella reaches over and dumps the basket of apples over, spilling them all about the ground. Ava groans, "Ella! We have to bring them home!"

"It's okay," Spencer shakes her head. "It's okay."

"But how are we going to make apple pie?" Ava complains unhappily.

"We'll just buy them at the store," Toby assures her. "You don't want the yucky ones on the ground anyway."

A sharp crackle of thunder interrupts her reply and soon, rain is pouring down from above. Spencer struggles to open the umbrella and she and Toby huddle beneath it, Ava quickly following suit. But Ella stares off into space for a while, completely zoned out and unmoving. Suddenly, a smile comes over her face and she begins to run about, up and down the tree-lined row of grass, splashing in mud puddles and giggling happily. When Ava notices the fun her sister's having, she joins in, and the two shriek and laugh and play together as their parents look on fondly. They're muddy and wet, but they're having a blast and Ella grins so wide and flaps her hands so hard, Spencer's surprised she didn't take flight.

And that's when she knows.

* * *

Doctor's offices have always scared the hell out of him. Perhaps it was the lifetime he spent in them as a child with his mother as she got shipped from clinic to clinic, getting opinion after opinion about what her medical condition truly was, even though all the doctors seemed to say the same thing. She was clinically depressed and Toby remembers this well; she'd sleep too much or she wouldn't sleep at all and she'd roam the hallways with a faraway look in her eyes and would run the shower to drown out her guttural sobs. When she'd been committed, Toby took solace in the fact that they were helping her, that maybe when she was released, he wouldn't have to see the inside of so many doctor's offices because she'd finally gain control of her life again. Needless to say, none of this ever happened and as he's sitting here in the waiting room with his wife and daughter, he still feels a little on edge.

They're back in Rosewood for the weekend, which certainly isn't helping his psyche. It's Peter Hastings' sixtieth birthday and on this chilly Friday night, they're slated to attend his birthday party following Ella's pediatric evaluation. They'd dropped Ava off at her grandparents' house before they'd made the trek to the doctor's office in an effort to save her some mental anguish they knew she'd feel if she'd come along. Ella's sorting building blocks on the floor in front of them, taking great pleasure in building them up and knocking them down, and when a little boy takes a yellow block of hers, she all but bites his head off. Spencer's jittering nervously in the chair beside him and Toby knows her anxiety is through the roof right now. He slips a warm hand into her own and she looks at him with an expression he can't read. Then, their names are called.

It isn't as terrible as he expects, at first. They're led to a back room with even more toys and games for Ella to play with, which she does immediately. The doctor is an older man with wire-rimmed glasses and a kind face and mostly, he just watches her play and asks them simple questions. "I understand she's a little over two, is that correct? Twenty-eight months?"

"Yes," Spencer replies and Toby nods his agreement.

"Does Ella play pretend or make believe?" The doctor wonders. "For example, a play kitchen or feeding a bottle to a baby doll?"

"Um," Spencer thinks a moment before shaking her head. "No, she doesn't."

"Is she interested in other children?" The doctor asks, making a note on his clipboard. "At daycare or at home?"

"She plays with her sister," Toby replies. "All the time."

"Interactive play?" The doctor implores. "Or are they playing next to each other, but separately?"

"Oh… I don't… I don't know," He sighs. "I guess a little of both."

"What about her name?" The doctor then questions. "Does she respond when you call her by name?"

"No," Spencer says quietly. "We brought her to an audiologist thinking she might be deaf, but the tests were negative."

"I see," He nods. "Does she get easily upset by loud noises?"

"On occasion."

"How about imitating? Has she ever tried to copy you when you clap or wave goodbye?"

"No."

"Does she understand or follow through with simple commands? Such as 'bring me the blanket' or 'put the toy away'?"

"No."

"Does she have an interactive attention span?" The doctor wonders. "Is it easy to get her attention and to hold it?"

"No," Toby replies. "It's pretty difficult, actually."

"And as for communication," The doctor clarifies. "Has she ever spoken actual words to either of you?"

"I don't…" Spencer sighs. "I don't think so."

"Does she point at things and look for your reaction?"

"No."

"Does she toe-walk?"

"A little."

"How about any outlandish movements? Does she flap her hands or spin in circles or wiggle her fingers in front of her eyes?"

Toby shares a sideways glance at Spencer before saying, "The hand flapping… It's only recently started."

"Okay," He smiles and nods before tucking his clipboard away. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to play with her for just a moment. It'll give me a better understanding of where she is, developmentally speaking."

They both nod in sync and watch as the doctor sits beside Ella on the floor. She doesn't acknowledge his presence. As he struggles to get her to engage, Toby turns to his wife and asks, "Hard part's over, right?"

Spencer's eyes are already filled with tears and she softly shakes her head. "Hard part's what comes next."

After a moment of unsuccessful play, the doctor leaves the room and it seems as though this interaction has thoroughly exhausted Ella as well. She begins to whine and cry and when she toddles over to her parents, Spencer collects her in her arms and holds her close, mama bear protecting her cub from the looming diagnosis to come. They sit in absolute silence; the only sound is Ella, quietly sucking her thumb, a sure sign she's fallen asleep. Toby isn't sure what to say; honestly, he's not even sure what's going to come out of the doctor's mouth when he returns. But he doesn't have to wait too long. The door opens again and their doctor and a specialist enter and Spencer reflexively reaches for his hand. He squeezes hers extra tight and hopes she can't feel how hard he's shaking.

"Mr. and Mrs. Cavanaugh," Their doctor addresses each of them. "Ella has autism spectrum disorder."

And maybe it only shocks Toby, because the tears finally fall from Spencer's eyes, but she nods like she's been expecting it all along. The specialist talks about how she'll be with them through the first few months of this tough diagnosis and then she offers them a list of people they can call; speech pathologists and occupational therapists and doctors more suited towards children with neurodevelopmental disorders. He doesn't know what to say. He glances down at his beautiful little girl, her sweet, angelic face framed by soft blonde curls, and wonders what this means for her. They're speaking back and forth, Spencer and the doctors, but Toby can't hear a word they're saying. He just hears _it_\- _autism spectrum disorder_\- and nothing else. They sign a bunch of paperwork and leave the office and when they're on their way back to his in-laws', it's as if he and Spencer completely switch reactions. She suddenly slips into a shocked silence and Toby abruptly has all the questions.

They park in the driveway right behind Melissa's car and Toby asks, "Are you alright?"

She shakes her head slowly, still staring out straight in front of her. "You?"

"Not so much," He replies. "Do you think we should get a second opinion?"

"I don't think we should live in denial," Spencer says softly. "As much as I don't want it to be true… I know it is."

Toby sighs and glances at her childhood home. "How are we going to tell them?"

"I don't know," Spencer says. "I don't want to; not yet. Let's just let my father have his night and we'll break the news another time."

"Okay," Toby nods and slips off his seatbelt. "I'll get her, okay?"

Spencer nods and he's glad she's agreed, because she's unfocused and shaking too hard to carry their daughter inside, anyway. Ella's still sound asleep but by the sound of the ruckus the party is making when they step inside, she wouldn't be for long. They greet Peter politely and present him with the gifts they'd brought him before Toby excuses himself to the den to lie Ella down in hopes that she could continue her much-needed nap. Ava runs by moments later and waves hello quickly before giggling and taking off around the house, her dark hair flying wildly behind her as her cousins chase after her, not a care in the world. Toby chuckles a moment, shaking his head, and greets Melissa, Veronica and a few others warmly before scanning the room for his wife. She's nowhere to be found, but he knows where she is.

He can hear her sobbing before he's even found her and his heart breaks just a little bit more. Toby pushes her bedroom door open and finds her on the floor, frantically wiping at her eyes the moment she sees him approach. He shuts the door behind him as she gasps desperately, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Toby tells her, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her all the way against him. "You can cry all you want. Just don't do it alone, Spence. I'm with you. Always."

"I know," She says and even though he meant this as a source of comfort, she begins to cry even harder. "You always have been. You're amazing and I love you."

"I love you, too," He kisses her crown. "And I know everything seems like it sucks right now, but it's going to be okay. It'll get better. Not easier, just… better."

"I'm just sad," Spencer sniffles a bit. "Not for me, not for us, but for Ella. People are going to look at her like there's something wrong with her for the rest of her life. Do you know how hard that's going to be?"

Toby nods slowly. "Yeah. It's going to suck. We're going to have to sit back and watch it happen and then somehow try to provide some kind of explanation."

"And Ava," Spencer then says. "How are we ever going to give both of them the same amount of attention? Ella's going to need around-the-clock care and supervision and guidance… And Ava's self-sufficient but she's _so_ young and she needs us, too. Just as much."

"I know," He agrees. "It's going to be hard to balance. We're going to have to explain all this to a four-year-old and somehow let her know that we can't always be at her beck and call anymore."

"It's not fair," Spencer shakes her head. "It's not fair to her and it's not fair to Ella. They're not going to have a normal life, either of them."

"But what is _normal_, Spence?" Toby then asks. "Your life wasn't normal; neither was mine. If you and I can somehow escape the death threats and the broken limbs and the stalking and torturing with at least a semblance of our sanities, I think Ava and Ella will make it out okay."

She chuckles despite the situation. "I guess you're right."

"Are you ready to tell your family, now?" He asks gently. "Because your Mom asked me how the appointment went and I dodged the question so fast, I think she's on to me."

Spencer gives him a watery smile. "You've never been a good liar."

He teases back, "Yeah, clearly not as good as you."

She shoots him a pointed look and then softens. "I don't know what to say. You know how my family is with imperfections. To say they don't tolerate them would be the understatement of the century."

"Come on, they're much better than they were at the start of all this," Toby says. "Remember how much they hated me? How much they wanted you to stay away?"

"This is different," She shakes her head. "Melissa and Perfect Paul have their two little boys who are so good at everything and so well-behaved and so faultless in my parents' eyes that my girls are almost helpless to measure up. And it's so _fucking_ stupid that they still act this way after the way it messed Melissa and me up, but they do. I know they do. They're the kind of grandparents that would play favorites and I know that because they were the kind of _parents_ to play favorites. And I wish I could tell you that I didn't give a flying fuck what they think, because there was a time when this actually was true. But I have kids, now, and so I do care. I care about the way they treat my kids and they love them, I know. But… I don't know how to tell them about Ella without them seeing her differently."

"And you think they'll love her any less after they know she has autism?" Toby asks, honestly intrigued.

"I don't know and it's the uncertainty that's freaking me out," Spencer tells him. "_I_ know that Ella is still the same beautiful, perfect little girl she always has been. _I_ know that I still love her as much as I did before the diagnosis and nothing could ever change that. And you know it, too. But do they?"

Toby sighs. "I don't know."

"Exactly," She says. "I don't know what to do about any of this and I _hate_ it."

"I'll tell you what we're going to do," Toby says. "We're going to get a new pediatrician and we're going to meet with an occupational therapist and we're going to get Ella the treatment she needs. We'll get her a speech pathologist, too, so we can finally understand what the hell she's saying."

Spencer chuckles. "I love her little jibber jabber. And she's so cute when she flaps."

"We're going to calmly explain to Ava what's going on with her sister," Toby continues. "And then you and I are going to raise strong, intelligent, kick-ass little girls. Autism or not, I love our kids to death."

"So do I," Spencer agrees. "And they're perfect the way they are."

"It's going to be hard. It might be the hardest thing we'll ever do," Toby says. "And expensive, too, probably. I might have to get another job; go back to police work, maybe? The money was good."

Spencer's eyes widen. "Don't you dare."

"I'm kidding," He assures her. "But we're going to get through this together. Because in case you haven't noticed, you and I are solid. Strong. And we can handle anything."

"I've noticed," She nods and presses her lips to his.

He kisses her again when they part and then suggests, "How about we go downstairs, eat some cake, and then tell them, okay? And if they react the way you think they will, we'll go and we'll never come back."

Spencer nods slowly and Toby watches the anxiety he's just chased away creep back into her features. He stands and offers her a hand, pulling her up with him and not letting go. Unfortunately, they are not allowed a calm moment in which to tell their family; when they arrive back downstairs, it's absolute, utter chaos. Ella is screaming at the top of her lungs, tears streaming down her face, and the younger of Melissa's boys is crying in sync with her, clutching a toy train firmly in his grasp. Ava's in the corner with her hands over her ears and her grandparents are just staring in shock. Everyone turns to look at Spencer and Toby when they enter the living room and Melissa turns on her sister, her eyes wild.

"Spencer!" She shouts. "She is _way_ too old to still be biting!"

"What- What happened?" Spencer stammers, still trying to make sense of the situation. Toby feels her grip on his hand tighten a bit and he tries to assure her his presence is unyielding.

"I just wanted a train," Her nephew cries. "She had _all_ of them and she wouldn't share!"

"She doesn't share _and_ she's still biting!" Melissa repeats. "He has teeth marks on his arm! She could've broken the skin! She could've drawn blood! I think you need to take her to a child psychologist, or something, because this behavior-"

"Is completely normal," Toby cuts her off, unwilling to listen to the rest of her shrill request, especially upon seeing the look on Spencer's face.

Melissa's eyes snap to Toby's. "Excuse me?"

With one last squeeze of Spencer's hand, Toby lets go and crosses the room towards his youngest daughter, scooping her into his arms. She stops screaming, but tears continue to pour out of her eyes as she wraps her tiny arms around his neck. "It's okay, Ella. It's alright."

"I'm sorry, it's _normal?_" Melissa wonders. "I'd love an explanation, if you're handing them out."

"I'm sorry she bit Patrick," Toby says calmly, rubbing his daughter's back as she begins to quiet. "I really am. She was over-stimulated and she doesn't know how to self-regulate. We're going to work on it."

Veronica wonders, "What are you saying?"

"The appointment we went to today wasn't a run-of-the-mill visit to the pediatrician," Toby goes on. "It was an evaluation. Ella's autistic. And… we're going to get her everything she needs."

Melissa's mouth opens and closes without her uttering a word. Peter stares in shock and Veronica turns to her younger daughter, "Spencer… Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know how to," She answers honestly. "I didn't know how you'd take it."

"Well, it's honestly quite a shock," Veronica says. "But it's not like she's any different."

Spencer's eyes widen. "Really?"

"Of course not," Veronica shakes her head. "So she needs a little extra care. We'll just love her even more."

"Oh my god," Spencer emits and falls into her mother's arms, dissolving into tears once more.

"I'm sorry," Melissa's immediately apologetic. "I didn't know. I sounded like a crazy…"

"Mom," Toby fills in for her. "You sounded like a Mom. It's okay."

She bites her lip and nods and Peter claps Toby on the back. "You don't need me to tell you that you guys are in for a rough ride, do you?"

Toby hesitates but shakes his head. "No, not really."

"You guys are tough," Peter then says. "I know you can handle it."

For everyone's sake, Toby hopes they can.

* * *

"What if I get on the wrong bus coming home?"

"You won't, honey. I wrote it down for you. It's in the front pocket of your backpack."

"But what if I don't have anyone to sit with for circle time?"

"Of course you will. You already know two friends in your class, remember? From orientation?"

"But Mommy, what if Ella needs me and I can't help her?"

This one throws Spencer for a loop. She swallows past the lump in her throat and says, "Ella will be fine, sweetheart. She'll miss you but it's only for a couple of hours and then you'll both be right back home again."

Ava thinks about this a moment before asking, "What if they serve something gross for snack time? Like raisins or applesauce?"

"I packed you some pretzels," Spencer whispers, their little secret. "And a cookie, just in case."

She smiles a bit, appeased only a moment before the big yellow school bus comes chugging down the street. It's Ava's first day of kindergarten and it's been a year, almost to the day, since Ella's diagnosis, and they're doing just fine. Every single day is different; autism makes sure of that. But the three of them are committed to making Ella's life no different than it was before. Ava, from the moment she learned of her sister's diagnosis, assumed the position of being her sister's fierce protector and she's done nothing but that since the moment they left her grandparents' house that evening a year ago. With speech and OT, Ella has made remarkable improvements and finally, Spencer and Toby are able to connect with her in the way they always wanted.

The school bus parks and Ava's immediately shaking her head, gripping her mother's hand like a vice. "I don't want to go. I have to stay here, with Ella."

"Honey, Ella's going to pre-school," Spencer tells her. "We all have things to do today, remember?"

"What's wrong, princess?" Toby asks, appearing on scene with Ella by the hand. "You said you were excited about kindergarten!"

Spencer glances at their eldest daughter, at the panic on her face, and knows without a doubt that kindergarten isn't the issue. It's the social situations kindergarten would bring; the ones she usually steers clear of. She bends to her level so they're eye to eye, takes both her hands in hers, and says, "You can do this, babe. I know you can."

She bites her lip and shakes her head, her eyes beginning to fill with tears. Spencer says, "Hey, no tears, remember? You promised me."

Toby then slips Ella's hand into Spencer's and takes Ava instead. "Do you want me to walk you to the bus? I have something really important I have to tell you, anyway."

Ava nods rapidly and Toby smiles, taking her by the hand. Spencer watches as they walk towards that big yellow school bus and her heart swells as she watches their daughter embrace Toby as tightly as she can. He kisses her cheek, whispers something in her ear, and then she climbs onboard and waves timidly from the front seat. Spencer beckons, "Ella, there she goes! Say bye-bye Ava!"

"Bye Ava! Bye Ava! Ava, bye bye! Bye!" Ella repeats and waves excitedly.

Toby waits until the bus is fully out of sight before returning to them and Spencer immediately asks, "What did you tell her?"

"Don't worry about it," He teases her and reclaims Ella from her grasp. "I'm going to take her to daycare and head to work. I get off at five, so if you want me to bring food back-"

"I'm cooking, that's not my concern," Spencer cuts him off. "What did you tell her?"

"What I always tell her," Toby shrugs as they amble up their driveway. "That I love her. That I'm proud of her. That she's the best big sister in the whole world. I told her that it's okay to be a little shy and a little scared, but she doesn't have anything to be afraid of, because she's going to make friends and she's going to have a great day."

Spencer grins and says, "She's so lucky to have you."

"Not any luckier than she is to have you," Toby shrugs and kisses her goodbye. "Have a good day."

"You too," She says and bends down to embrace Ella.

"I wuv ew, Momma."

It still makes her heart flutter. "I love you, Ella. You have a good day, okay? Be a good girl."

She knows, logically, that Ella won't take her commands to heart. Most likely, she'll have the same kind of day she always has; she plays nicely with other kids until those kids do something she doesn't like or doesn't understand. Then, she hits or spits or claws or bites; she has meltdowns when she gets too overwhelmed and the daycare providers are good at giving her distractions, but not so good at knowing when the shit's hit the fan and she's too far gone to care. But Spencer takes the good with the bad anyway. She ignores the art projects that come home with Ella, because they're always too perfect and she knows her daughter didn't do them. She repeats, word for word, what the providers tell her to her OT and they work together on some of Ella's more dangerous behaviors. They're doing their best; they're trying. And somehow, they're getting through it.

That afternoon, Spencer's home from work in time to pick Ella up and see Ava off the bus safely. When Ella sees her older sister, she flaps her arms excitedly and repeats her name over and over and Ava nearly sprints to her, embracing her tightly. Spencer grins because the love these two share is already so precious, so perfectly _them_ and nothing could ever touch it. Ava talks about her day and Spencer has to ignore the pang of melancholy she feels when she realizes Ella will never be able to do that. Instead, they go inside and Spencer's feeling brave so she allows them to help make dinner and Ella loses interest seconds into it. Toby comes home and Ella attaches herself to him and the four sit down to a meal that's super loud and super typical for their house. After, the girls are on the couch and Spencer and Toby are debriefing in the kitchen when Ella makes a simple request.

"I wanna princess game."

"You want the princess game?" Ava asks. "Okay, I'll go get it."

She scurries to the hall closet and snatches a board game from the bottom shelf. "This one, Ella?"

"No!" Ella shrieks. "I wanna princess game!"

"Okay, Ella," Ava nods and places it back on the shelf. "Do you want to play a princess game? I'll get our costumes!"

"_No!_" Ella is beside herself with frustration. "_I wanna princess game!_"

Ava says, frantic, "I don't know which one-"

"Honey, I got it, okay?" Spencer then says, entering the room with an iPad. She unlocks it, loads the game and hands it to Ella. "Here's your princess game!"

Ella's appeased for now, meltdown averted. Ava frowns and casts her gaze downward. Spencer's quick to assure her, "You did a good job, Ave. Trying to understand her instead of getting annoyed. Thank you for helping."

Ava shrugs. "I didn't know what she meant."

"I know," Spencer nods. "But you still helped her out. Thank you. You're the best and she loves you so much."

Ava glances up and smiles, this time, and Spencer sighs in relief. Another crisis averted.

* * *

Not for the first time, Toby feels the utter panic and adrenaline rush through his veins when he realizes he can't find Ella. It's possibly the most terrifying part of her disorder; she will often take off, doesn't matter if they're in public or at home, and no one will know where she is. And since she doesn't respond to her name even still, finding her is like finding a needle in a haystack. Often times, she's just in the closet playing with her princesses or she's in the next aisle at the grocery store, comparing boxes of fruit snacks. It never ceases to scare the living crap out of him, and that's how they end up with Bentley. Bentley is Ella's new service dog and two years prior to her diagnosis, two years of the paralyzing fear of losing her, Toby and Spencer finally decide enough is enough. Now, wherever Ella goes, Bentley goes and if she should try to bolt, Bentley parks himself and doesn't let her.

Ella bonds with the Labrador in a way none of them could have expected. He keeps her calm and has cut her meltdowns down by a third, at least. She loves him without boundaries, as children with autism love everyone, and watching that fierce little four-year-old grow and learn and develop with the help of her OT, speech pathologist and now her service dog is something that brings them all to tears. And that's how Toby knows today's going to be a rough day, because here he is, with his six-year-old who's home from school with a fever and his four-year-old who's out and about without her service dog, at the grocery store, a place with so much stimulation, it's bound to send Ella into a meltdown of epic proportions.

"Daddy, why didn't we bring Bentley?" Ava asks worriedly as her father navigates the three of them down the aisles.

"It's a short trip; I didn't think we'd need him," Toby admits. "We're getting milk, eggs, asparagus and children's Tylenol. That's it."

"I go with you?" Ella says, her grip on Toby's hand vice-like. "I go with you? Daddy, I go with you?"

"We're going to the produce aisle, babe," Toby says. "Look at all the vegetables! We need asparagus. Let's see if we can find it."

"How much?" Ava asks as she scans the rows of produce for exactly what they're searching for.

"Just one bundle will be good," Toby says. "Ella won't eat it, so we don't need too much."

"Daddy, I go home," Ella strains against him, yanking on his arm. "Daddy, I go home. Let's do this. I go home."

"We're going to go home, Ell," Toby promises. "We need a few things first. Thanks, Ave. Let's go get the milk and eggs next."

They turn in the direction of the refrigerated aisle and Ella grows even more impatient. She begins pulling on his arm so hard he's sure she'll rip it straight from its socket. "Ell, almost done, okay?"

He glances at her and notices she's got a bag of baby carrots hanging from her mouth. Clearly, she'd snatched them in an effort to use the texture to self-regulate. "Okay, I guess we're getting carrots, too."

"I got the eggs," Ava says, placing them in the basket gently. "Want me to get the milk too?"

"I don't think you can reach, honey. I've got it, but thank you," Toby tells her and lifts a jug off the top shelf. "Let's get you some medicine so we can get that fever under control."

But turning into the medicine aisle is too much for Ella. The carrots fall from her mouth and she collapses to the ground, tears streaming down her face. Her mouth opens and Toby braces himself for the animalistic sound about to come out. Her scream pierces the air and shocks passing shoppers into silence. It's all Toby can hear; everything else is completely drowned out. She screams and screams and her tears are flowing freely and when Ava steps forward to try and help, Ella lashes out and Toby has to yank Ava backwards before she gets socked in the face. It's the worst meltdown she's had in months and of course, _of course_, it would happen in the public's eye.

A man and a woman walk past them, give them the once over, and the man shakes his head. "Someone needs to knock some sense into that kid."

"Seriously," The woman smirks. "Some brats should _never_ be taken out of the house."

"Give me a week with her," The man says as their voices fade away. "I'll straighten her out."

Toby can feel his blood boiling and for the first time he wants to unleash Ella on them. Sure, take her for a week; he'd like to see the man _try_. If anything, it will be Ella doing the straightening and Toby guesses that he'd be shoving her back at him and Spencer within an hour. Searching the rows of medicine, Toby snatches a bottle of children's Tylenol off the shelf, chucks it into the basket and scoops a thrashing Ella into his arms. Ava follows quietly and Toby pays for their items, doing his best to ignore the stares he's gaining from fellow shoppers and the steady stream of kicks, punches and a few scratches from his daughter. He knows what they're thinking; what four-year-old still acts this way? Her shirt's riding up and he knows her diaper's exposed and that only adds salt to the wound. He wants to take all their judgmental stares away, he wants to shout from the rooftops, _She's not ready! She's not ready!_ But most of all, he wants them to understand; the only reason her behavior seems out of place is because they're _making_ it that way.

As they're walking to the car, a little boy, no older than Ava, passes with his mother and twists his finger around in circles by his ear, the universal symbol for _crazy_. Hurt flashes in Ava's eyes and she glances to her father to see if he's seen. He has. Toby shoots her a sympathetic smile as he buckles Ella into her car seat, but it's no use. He's seen the tears in Ava's eyes, he watches her downcast gaze as she buckles her own seatbelt, and he knows she feels as shitty as he does. But he's proud of her, of his sweet little Ava, who fiercely protects her younger sister and cries when she can't, because he can see how Ella means the world to her and that, as a parent, means the world to him. Ella screams the entire way home and Toby unloads her from the car, takes her inside, and gives Ava a dose of medicine to calm the raging fever. He puts away the groceries and watches as Ella throws herself on the floor and Bentley trots over and lays his head on her stomach.

She pats him on the head a few times before crying, "I need Momma's hug. I need Momma's hug."

Toby's heart gives a painful tug. It's taken her so long to be able to even slightly communicate what she needs, but she's getting there. "Mommy's at work, honey. Can Daddy give you a hug?"

"Mommy," Ella cries again. "I need Mommy's hug!"

"How about Ava?" Toby tries again. "Can Ava give you a hug?"

"Ava," She calls. "I want Ava. I want Ava!"

Ava crosses the room and bends down to give her sister the embrace she desires. She pats her back and says, "It's okay, Ella. You're okay, now."

When they pull away, Ella's still crying, but Ava stays and holds her hand until an hour later, when Spencer arrives home from work. She kisses each of her girls in greeting and Ella launches herself into her mother's arms, clinging to her like a koala. "Hi, babe. How was your day?"

"Not good," Ava shakes her head, getting back to her coloring.

"Not good?" Spencer repeats and looks to Toby for confirmation. He nods.

"We had a rough day," He sighs. "But it's okay. What's one in the face of all the good ones we've had lately?"

She smiles. "Your positivity is what gets us through."

After dinner- chicken, potatoes and asparagus, but not for Ella; hers is all beige, because that's the only color she'll eat- Spencer spends some quality time with the girls, bathing them and putting them to bed, with some difficulty, of course. But when she and Toby are murdering a bottle of wine on the couch- as they should be, given the day they've had- an idea comes to her. "I think I'm going to start a blog."

"A blog?" He asks in surprise. "About what?"

"Us," Spencer says. "You, me, Ava and Ella, living this crazy life with autism. I've needed a place, lately, to vent and I think that's the best, healthiest way. No one will read it, probably, but at least it'll be out there."

Toby contemplates this a moment before nodding. "I think you'd be great at it."

"Thank you," She smiles. "You've always been my greatest support system."

"Likewise," He tells her. "How else would we have gotten through all of this?"

"We wouldn't have," She disagrees. "I'm sure of it."

* * *

_Normal is subjective._

_I mean that in the best way possible- normal is in the eye of the beholder. Normal, for you, might mean working a nine-to-five job in a cubicle for a Fortune 500 company. It might mean coming home to a clean house, two perfect children who've already done their homework and won't balk at the sight of broccoli on their dinner plates, and maybe a permission slip to sign or a batch of cookies to bake for a fundraiser. Normal for you might be a vacation to Disney World or a promotion to the top of your career or maybe just a routine trip to the grocery store that doesn't make you question your entire existence. Maybe that's normal for you. But that's not normal for us._

_For us, normal isn't so black and white. I have a husband who works the craziest hours; super, super early in the morning or long into the night or sometimes, if we're unlucky, both. But somehow, he still manages to come home and give us his undivided attention and pretend he isn't dead tired when I know he is. I have a daughter who is so crippled by anxiety that it stops her from doing normal- there's that word again- activities with her friends, but she's so sweet and kind and thoughtful, that you would actually never even know. She's so damn intelligent, too; her brilliance never ceases to amaze me. And I have another daughter who only eats foods that are beige and who hugs like a linebacker and whose giggle is equivalent to sunshine on a rainy day. Oh, and she happens to be autistic. So what?_

_I'm not going to lie; it _so _wasn't a "so what?" when she was diagnosed. I'm not going to pretend I didn't see it coming; she'd been showing the signs for weeks, months, possibly even her entire life. But somehow, you get into this naïve sense of invincibility when you become a parent and the horror stories you read online or watch on the news never seem to be a concern for you. We were numb, for a while. Confused. Upset. Not at the diagnosis itself; no, that was welcomed, because we finally got an answer. We were upset for Ella, for all the things that would now be such a struggle for her, but you know what? We got over it. We got over it because we realized she has the best possible support team on her side. She has a father who will never give up on her, who'll never let autism stop her from being the best possible kid she can be. She has a sister who will protect her every step of the way and with whom she has the most incredible loving bond even I wouldn't want to mess with. She has a service dog that will do anything- and _has_ done anything- to keep her out of harm's way. And, she has me, her mother, on some days ready to take on the world and others, barely hanging on._

_When Ella was diagnosed, she was a little over two. I immediately blamed myself, all rational thought aside, but I never told anyone. It was so hard not to; as a mother, when anything is wrong with your child, your first thought is that it's because of something you did. I began to wrack my brain- what did I do, or what _didn't_ I do, differently while I was pregnant with Ella as opposed to Ava? I tried to pinpoint the moment I knew something was wrong and came up empty; I tried to remember a time when Ella hadn't shown symptoms and found nothing. It took a while, but I realized that I was not to blame. No one was. This was just a shitty thing that happened to my awesome kid. But guess what? She's still awesome. She's funny and beautiful and strong. And I wouldn't change anything about her; no, not even her autism. Because if I took that away, then I'd be taking away a piece of my Ella. That's who she is; my kick-ass little princess._

_So, the next time you second glance at my kick-ass little princess having a meltdown in the middle of Target, keep on looking. She'd never look at you that way. In fact, she'd probably hug you, give you a big old smile, and offer you Princess Barbie. And my friend, that is the highest honor._

_She considers everyone a friend. It's a beautiful way to look at the world, isn't it?_

* * *

**April is Autism Awareness Month. I was inspired to write this chapter by the amazing blog GoTeamKate. It's about an awesome little ninja with autism, her parents and sister, and how they go on with it everyday. Worth a read; go check them out.  
**


	13. sky turned black like a perfect storm

**Hi friends! I'm sorry if the last chapter kind of broke your hearts a little, but I absolutely loved the feedback you sent me! The goal of any writer is to make her readers feel something, so if I can do that, then hey, I must be doing something right lol. Thank you so much for your continued support. It really does mean a lot to me. I hope you continue to enjoy the rest of the adventures I'm throwing them through!  
**

**Today's chapter title comes from "Clean" by Taylor Swift and the AU we find ourselves in now is natural disaster. I have a very long work day ahead of me today and tomorrow (tomorrow I'm working until 2:30 a.m., God help me), so any reviews will make the day so much better! Pressure's on, am I right? LOL. Love you guys. See you next time!**

* * *

the sky turned black like a perfect storm

They decide on Clearwater, Florida, with its white sand beaches and crystalline blue waters and hot, scorching days. People are friendly, but the town is huge and they couldn't remember everyone's name even if they tried; a sheer contrast from Rosewood, Pennsylvania. In fact, this is solely why they picked it; it's tropical paradise with all the anonymity they'd always dreamed off. Hot, humid days are a welcomed difference from Pennsylvania's mild summers, rainy springs and falls and frigid winters with raging blizzards. But they would find none of that, here. It is utterly perfect and within mere weeks of moving their things south, they find a quiet, almost abandoned spot on a beachside cliff and claim it as their own.

Their lot is carved into a cliffside, with stairs down to the beach for their own enjoyment. Toby spends weeks adjusting the blueprints he'd drawn them to accommodate better for a beach house and when he's finished, he knows their house is going to be absolutely perfect. They secure all the proper rights and paperwork for the property and soon, they have a foundation, a frame of the house they'll soon call their own, siding and roof work to follow. In the meantime, Spencer earns her license in interior design and turns back towards their new house hungrily, glancing at it as an artist might eye a blank canvas, and eagerly awaits the chance to get to work. It's after the siding is finished, after the floors and insulation and electrical work are installed, that Toby walks Spencer through the skeleton of their new house, giving her a grand tour of all that could be.

"So obviously, there will be a door there," He begins as they walk through the open frame acting as their front door. "But… This is it."

"Wow," Spencer nods, her eyes everywhere at once. "It looks great. I mean, I'm not surprised; _you_ built it, after all."

"I had help," He shrugs, scratching the back of his neck. "And it's not much to look at, yet, but…"

"No, it's great," Spencer stops him. "Well, come on! Show me around."

He takes her to a room just off the front door and says, "This is the dining room. It's the only one we've started drywall in."

Spencer runs a hand over the cool plaster and says, "I think some crown molding would be nice here. Maybe a chair rail? Hardwood floors, definitely."

Toby nods. "Whatever you want. You're the boss. If we go through this archway here, it's going to lead to the kitchen. I left the back open because you requested lots of natural sunlight, if I remember correctly."

"You have an excellent memory," Spencer nods and steps closer. "This is a _beautiful_ window. What did you call it, again?"

"I don't think it has a name," He shrugs. "I custom-shaped it."

"Well, it's perfect. And I think this will be a good area for the table; it's just off where there island will go," Spencer plans, turning towards the greater depth of the room. "Marble countertops, obviously, and maybe some cherry cabinets? Or do we want oak?"

"We want whatever will look best," Toby says and she grins.

"Good answer," She chuckles and points towards an opening along the far wall. "It leads to the laundry room and garage?"

"Yes it does."

"Ugh, you're too good to me," She tells him excitedly. "Show me more, show me more!"

He takes her to what would become their family room next and she marvels at the size, glancing upward. "Vaulted ceiling? Nice touch."

"And," Toby points upwards, towards the second floor. "I know it looks like an empty space in the wall or like I forgot to build half of it, but-"

"No, it's an overlook," Spencer understands instantly. "That's awesome."

"Yeah," He smiles. "I figured I'd put a railing up there and we'd be able to… I don't know, communicate from upstairs and downstairs if we needed, or… really, whatever."

She smiles, too. "I love it."

"Well, if you love that, you've got to see this," Toby then says, taking her hand and bringing her to the formal living room. She nearly squeals with excitement.

"Oh my god, it's a bay window with a window seat!" She flocks to it promptly and then turns, her gazing softening. "You remembered."

"I did. I remembered how _obsessed_ you are with these things so I figured I'd build you one," Toby grins and then shrugs a bit. "I couldn't make it work in the family room, so it doesn't overlook the ocean like you wanted, but…"

"I don't care," She shakes her head, stepping closer to him and throwing her arms around his neck. "It's perfect. Thank you."

"You're welcome," He kisses her quickly before asking, "You want to go upstairs?"

She nods eagerly and they ascend the staircase hand in hand. He shows her the master bedroom first and she marvels at the size before entering their adjoined bathroom. Spencer gives it the once-over before grinning and nodding, "Oh yeah. There's definitely room for a whirlpool tub in here."

Toby chuckles. "How did I know you were going to say that?"

"Come on, when we were on our honeymoon, don't tell me you didn't love the bathtub," Spencer says. "We spent like every night in it."

"It wasn't so much the tub as it was what we were doing in it," He answers honestly and she giggles.

"Alright, I'll give you that one," She beams. "What else do you have to show me?"

He brings her to a room designated for guests and one for a possible home office before taking her to the very last room opposite their own. Spencer asks, "What are your plans for this one?"

"Well, I guess we don't really have any; at least, not right away," Toby tells her. "But I figured we could reserve it. You know, for a newborn with a six-pack."

She turns to meet his eyes and grins. "You've thought about it already?"

"Well, yeah," He shrugs. "I mean, I know we're not ready, yet. But we will be, right? Eventually?"

"Of course," Spencer expresses giddily. "And this is the perfect size. I mean, we can put the crib against that far wall, because there's plenty of space to hang a mobile from the ceiling there. I think the changing table could go by the closet there. And in the corner, by the window? It's a perfect spot for a rocking chair, if his or her father would like to build him or her one."

Toby teases, "They can't have yours?"

Spencer bites her lip, torn between wanting to be a good, hypothetical mother and not wanting to part with one of her most prized possessions. Toby lets her off the hook. "I'm kidding. Of course I'll build another."

"Toby, this place really is beautiful," Spencer then says. "And I'm so excited to start our lives together here."

He agrees wholeheartedly. "So am I."

Within the week, Toby finishes the drywall work and Spencer's already ordered the hardwood floors, the bathroom tiles, and all the carpet they could ever ask for as their house closing date draws nearer and nearer. On an outrageously hot day in May, a large delivery truck pulls up to the front of the house just as Toby and Spencer have finished sealing their new driveway and they have to wave their arms frantically and direct the truck to park along the road instead of in the sticky, unsettled tar. At the end, they're left with stacks of tile, slabs of hardwood, and three giant rolls of carpeting they're going to lay themselves. The truck pulls away and the driver looks at them as if they're crazy; perhaps they are. But this is _their_ house, their first project together, and they want more than anything to do all the hard work.

"I say we start with the carpet," Toby votes. "It's heavy and probably the hardest of the three."

"Sounds good to me," Spencer nods. "It's going upstairs and in the two living rooms, right?"

"Right," He nods and lifts an end. "Let's get to work."

She reaches for the other end, lifts it upwards and groans immediately. "Oh my god, I'm going to get a hernia."

"Are you okay?" He asks, immediately alarmed.

"I'm fine," She assures him as they head through the front door of the house. "It's much heavier than I expected, but I'm good."

"Are you sure?" Toby wonders as they trek backwards into the family room.

"Promise," She nods. "But let's move a little faster so I can put this _down_."

He snickers and they drop the roll of carpet right at the edge of the living room. Spencer stares at it and asks, "Well… now what?"

"Now," Toby says, getting down on his hands and knees. "We roll it out, add an inch or two to the room's length, and then taper it off. First time laying carpet, huh?"

"How can you tell?" She chuckles, getting down to his level and assuming the same position. "So we just… roll it?"

"Yup," Toby affirms and pushes the roll forward, crawling after it. "Easy enough, right?"

She agrees and begins to roll it outwards as well. "Yeah, I guess so. This is kind of fun."

"You're rolling it faster than I am," Toby complains a moment later, mere inches behind her. "It's not going to come out even."

"Well, push faster, slowpoke!" Spencer teases, hanging back a bit to allow him to catch up.

Toby chuckles. "In a couple years, when we are ready to have kids and you're in labor, complaining about how much it hurts, I'm going to say the same thing to you. See how you like it."

Spencer collapses in giggles and says, "Do it. See where it gets you."

Toby grins and slips the pocketknife from his belt loop, running it along the length of carpet. After a beat, he hisses in pain and howls, "Shit, I think I sliced my hand open."

"Oh my god, really? Are you okay?" Spencer hops up in concern. "Don't bleed on the carpet."

Toby's eyes widen and he shows her his hand, completely intact. "No, I was joking, but _really?_ Your first reaction is 'don't bleed on the carpet'?"

"No, I asked if you were okay first," Spencer points out. "It's a new carpet, Toby."

He shakes his head, a smile forming on his face. "I can't believe you."

"Hey, you're the one trying to use your safety as a joke," Spencer says as they head outdoors once they've secured the carpet. "Don't joke about getting injured! That's not funny."

"Yeah, especially when there's new carpet involved."

She swats at him playfully and they reach for the next roll of carpet, tossing the scraps from first roll aside. The moment they lift it, Spencer drops her end and clutches her stomach. "Jesus, there's that hernia."

Toby drops his end, too, and rushes her to her aid. "Are you serious? Are you alright?"

Her face changes from one in pain to a complacent smile instantly. "No. But it isn't funny, is it?"

Toby frowns. "Not cool."

"Go pick up your end," Spencer lightly pushes him off her. "This carpet isn't going to lay itself."

Toby shakes his head. "I've got my eye on you."

"Yeah, yeah," She says. "You should have your eye on this carpet. Maybe learn to roll it faster, this time."

* * *

Early June, their house has all the doors installed, all the lighting fixtures in place and all the plumbing work completely finished. The floors are pristine and perfect now that their carpet, tile and hardwood have finally been put in properly and the walls look like actual walls now, and not something out of a Home Depot flyer. Their home closes at the end of the week and on Friday at 3 p.m., it will officially belong to them. This afternoon is pleasant; after three days straight of rain, it is finally sunny, breezy and not too hot. Spencer and Toby are inside their dining room, unhinging paint cans and dipping their brushes into it, tackling the next part of their home-building project- the detail work.

"The chair rail was a nice touch," Toby comments, lining the baseboard with blue painter's tape. "It looks very classy in here."

Spencer laughs. "Thank you. I thought so."

"I don't know how often we're going to use this room, though." Toby shrugs, dipping his paintbrush into the top of the blue paint and swirling it around a bit. "We didn't have a dining room back home. Did you?"

"Yes," Spencer smirks. "Shows how often you came through the front door."

"For a while, I didn't know you _had_ a front door," Toby jokes. "It was easier to get to you if I went around back."

"We ate in the dining room every night, for a while," Spencer comments, using a paintbrush roller to cover the top half of the wall in a glistening base coat. "You know my parents and keeping up appearances."

He chuckles. "Sure."

"But then, everything happened," Spencer shrugs. "And then I was eating dinner in my room, most nights. I don't know if they ever ate at all."

Toby nods and there's not much to be said, anymore. Their upbringings were faulty in different ways, but damaged all the same. She brightens a bit and says, "But I can see us having our holidays in here. Thanksgiving dinner, Christmas, Easter… All our more formal occasions."

"We're hosting?" Toby asks. "Will flan be making an appearance?"

Spencer laughs out loud. "I can cook other things."

"Like an entire turkey dinner with all the trimmings?" Toby wonders. "And how many people should I be expecting?"

"Okay, I've never done it before, but it can't be that hard," Spencer shrugs. "And I don't know! Whoever we invite. Your parents, my parents-"

"That's a disaster waiting to happen," Toby shakes his head. "Remember our wedding?"

Spencer bites her lip. "It wasn't _that_ bad."

"It certainly wasn't good," Toby tells her. "The DJ had to stop the music at one point, during our first dance, might I add, to tell them to shut up."

Spencer pauses a moment and smiles at the memory. "I forgot that happened. That's not what I was paying attention to, then."

Toby assures her, "I wasn't either, I promise. But it was hard to ignore."

"Okay, so we'll trade off years inviting our parents," Spencer then suggests. "Mine one year, yours the next, from now until eternity."

"I don't know," Toby hesitates. "What do we tell the rejects?"

"That we're on vacation, or something," Spencer shrugs. "We're cruising the Caribbean or we're in Paris or, I don't know, _something_."

"Better yet, let's actually go to Paris," Toby suggests instead. "And then we don't have to invite anyone for dinner ever."

Spencer rolls her eyes. "Fine. We won't invite our parents. We'll invite the girls instead and it'll be like that one time we all spent Christmas together. That was fun, wasn't it?"

"I guess so," Toby agrees hesitantly. "They're at least better than the alternative."

"Okay, see? We'll have our holiday meals in here," Spencer dreams excitedly. "And birthdays, too, and when someone important comes for dinner."

Toby smirks. "Like who?"

"I don't know," Spencer replies. "One of our bosses, maybe? Or the like the governor, or someone like that."

"Oh, see, we didn't think this through, Spence," Toby teases. "The governor won't come to eat here; we voted Democrat."

Spencer turns to him, shaking her head despite the mile-wide smile on her face, and points her paintbrush in his direction. "Toby-"

But then she stops. She's landed a giant splash of blue paint right between his eyes. Her own eyes widen and she gasps, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"I surrender," Toby cuts her off, but dips his own brush into the paint bucket. "I was only joking. You know that."

"No, Toby, please don't," Spencer begs him, stepping backwards and bumping into the ladder. "It was an accident, I swear!"

"Sure, sure, I believe you," He nods, stepping closer. "But I hope you know what this means."

"No, we can't," She shakes her head. "We can't make a mess in here; we have to finish painting. I'll get you a paper towel or a rag or something. We can't do this now."

"Should've thought of that before," Toby shrugs and flings his paintbrush at her, grinning as it lands in her hair and on her cheek and chin. "Oops."

Despite her previous words, she grins and says, "You shouldn't have done that."

"Oh no? Why not?"

"I play to win, remember?" is all she replies with before retaliating fiercely and it escalates from there.

In the end, they end up getting more paint on each other than the walls and they have to call it a day to wash up, all progress lost. It takes a full bottle of shampoo to get all the paint out of Spencer's hair and after his third shower, Toby is still finding paint behind his ears. Eventually, they do finish painting the rooms in their house and now it's completely livable, just waiting for them to move in. They meet with their realtor, sign all the necessary paperwork and it's officially theirs; they're welcomed and ready to move in. That Friday night, after they closed on their house, they order a pizza and unlock the front door for the first time and drag an air mattress and a few pillows and blankets into the center of the family room. They haven't yet turned on the electricity, so they're eating by candlelight in their big empty house, but it's the most exciting thing they've done thus far and they're eager and ready to begin anew.

Toby blows out the candles as they snuggle under the blankets, but they're too giddy to sleep. Spencer squeals, "It's the first night in our new home!"

"I know," He chuckles. "I can't believe we're here already. Seems like only yesterday this was just concept art in my notebook, just a blueprint, and now…"

"Now, here we are," Spencer finishes. "I don't know if I've said it enough, but it's absolutely perfect and I'm in love with it. Thank you _so_ much for coming up with this; for making it a reality."

"Of course," He replies, pulling her closer. "I wanted you to have a place that actually felt like home, for once. Especially one away from Rosewood."

"Extra thanks for building us a home _not_ in Rosewood."

"Spence, we were never going to stay there."

"Good," She murmurs sleepily. "We have a lot to unpack."

"Yeah, we do," Toby agrees. "A whole truck's worth."

"I have that meeting tomorrow about homeowner's insurance," Spencer frowns. "I hate meetings."

"That one's necessary, though." Toby says. "Don't want to miss that."

"Yeah," She yawns. "But then what? I mean, we've been working on this place for months, making it the perfect place to live, but what do we do when we're done?"

"Well," Toby thinks a moment before answering, "We _live_."

It's a simple enough answer and she wonders why she hadn't thought of that. The next morning, they deflate the air mattress, go out for breakfast and part ways; Spencer, for the insurance meeting and Toby, to direct the moving truck into their driveway. When they meet again, they unload their furniture and boxes and begin to get to work. It's a long, long process that takes them a couple of days, but slowly, their house begins to turn into a home. They position the couch just right and hook up the Internet and the television and put sheets and a comforter onto their bed upstairs. Spencer reaches into one of the very last boxes and finds a framed photograph of her and Toby, wrapped in newspaper, that makes her grin. She reaches out, tacks it onto the wall in the living room, and feels his strong arms wrap around her from behind.

"That was a good day," Toby comments, gazing at their smiling faces from so long ago. "One of the very few we had back then."

"Hey, despite our situation, we had a _lot_ of good days," Spencer disagrees. "We were being chased and tortured and almost killed daily, but we still, somehow, managed to make each other happy."

"Well, at the time, that was all we had." Toby tells her as she turns in his arms to face him. "Each other. I like to think we have a little more now."

"Toby," Spencer agrees. "We have everything."

* * *

It's funny how destruction works, isn't it? It takes months and months of planning, months and months of creating, but only one single moment to tear it all down.

The warning comes the first week of September. Hurricane Xavier is raging through the Bahamas and headed straight for them, and this one is particularly nasty. They painstakingly board up their house and head inland, to Orlando for a week, to wait out the storm, no telling what they would find when they returned. In Orlando, it rains for seven days and seven nights, but that's it; it only rains. It isn't close enough to the coast to gain the kind of savage annihilation that Clearwater has the privilege of. High, heavy winds rip up the roads and yank palm trees out of the ground and send sand careening across the beaches, the beaches that no longer look like beaches, but caverns and craters akin to the moon's surface. Rain pelts and pummels so hard, it's exceedingly painful, and the deep, dark skies above show no mercy on anything below.

They receive the call on the drive back home a week later. It's their insurance agent and she has the grave news they're expecting, but still, it doesn't make the sight any less gut wrenching to see. The road is in pieces outside their home and they can't even get to their home, or, what's left of it, without stopping the car and walking the rest of the way. The big beautiful palm tree at the end of their driveway had fallen backwards, into their garage, and crushed Spencer's SUV like a bug. The roof is completely missing; tiles are sprinkled on their front porch, but what had happened to it is a mere mystery. The front door is missing, windows are hanging from their hinges and that bay window with the window seat Spencer had loved so much is in a million pieces of glass shards and wood.

Their home, all their hard work and effort, is in shambles and they're completely numb, unable to move. They walk forward, blindly, and step into the home, glancing at the ruins, the sodden carpets and furniture, their memories stripped and blown all over the place. Spencer's the first to speak and her voice is shaking when she says, "Everything's gone. Everything."

And Toby wants nothing more than to find something that proves her wrong, but their lives are emptied, spilled all over the beach and washing out to sea, their possessions and photographs long gone and forgotten. Instead he can only nod. "Yeah. Yeah it's gone."

"What are we going to do?" Spencer panics. "Where are we going to live? All our clothes are gone and there's a tree through our bedroom and… Toby, all of our _things_."

"I don't know," Toby says softly. "I honestly don't know."

Suddenly, Spencer tears off towards the staircase and Toby calls after her, watching her run blindly towards an area he's not sure is safe. The fifth, eighth and last step on the staircase are missing, but that doesn't stop her and it doesn't slow her down. Toby follows, unsure of where she's going, and then comes to an abrupt halt when she does right outside their bedroom door. Palm fronds litter the carpet, there's a coconut on his pillow and glass all over the floor, but Spencer steps forward anyway. In the corner of the room is the rocking chair he'd made her years and years ago, and it's in a million tiny pieces. She reaches out shakily, grabs one of the arms of the chair, and clutches it to her heart before breaking down in hysterical sobs. It's heartbreaking to watch; as much as she had loved it, Toby never knew it had meant _that _much to her. He follows, sinks beside her, and lays a tentative hand on her back.

"I knew it," She sobs. "I knew it was gone, but I had to see…"

Toby promises softly, "I'll make you another."

"That's not the point, Toby," She cries. "These are our _lives_. Moments, memories… And now they're just _gone_. They're just gone and we can't get them back."

"I know," He says soothingly, rubbing her back a little. "I know."

"We don't have a plan for this," Spencer wipes at her eyes. "We don't. We don't have anywhere to go and we have nothing to offer people in replacement…"

"We'll get the insurance money," Toby tells her. "We'll get that and we'll… We'll have to start over."

"Where?" Spencer wonders. "Where are we going to go, now? We have _nothing_."

"I know," Toby repeats. "But that's the thing; we have _nothing_. We can start over anywhere, now. We can go to Paris or London or Rome. We can buy a boat and sail the whole world or we can find some island and stay there forever and forget the world. We can do whatever we want. And I know it's going to be hard, but Spence, so was this."

She sniffles a little as he continues, "I loved this house as much as you did. I'm sorry you never got your Thanksgivings or your dinner with the governor. But we have so many more adventures to embark on, you know? We might as well get started."

Spencer inhales a deep breath. "I'm sorry it destroyed your house. All your hard work, Toby."

Toby shrugs. "It's just a building."

They stand and embrace for a moment, ending with a kiss solidifying that no matter how hard things were right now, it could only get better from here. Painfully, Spencer leaves the ruins behind, hand in hand with Toby, and they descend the stairs and try desperately not to think of how much work, how much time, how much effort they put into this house and how effortlessly nature had destroyed it. Before they leave, however, a flicker of sunlight catches Spencer's eye and, wordlessly, she turns back towards the family room. Toby follows suit and, sifting through the ruins, Spencer finds the framed photograph of the two of them that she had hung months ago, completely intact and unharmed. She glances back at Toby and he shoots her a smile, because maybe their house hadn't been strong enough to withstand a hurricane, but _they_ were. Spencer tucks the photo beneath her arm as they prepare to exit and knows it's a testament to their relationship's strength.

Come hell or high water, nothing could tear them apart.


	14. take a chance and roll the dice

**Good morning, good morning! Hopefully it's finding you well. I don't have that much to say today, except that I'm excited for you to read this chapter, because it was kind of fun to write haha. We're almost at the end of the road here- only six chapters left, excluding this one- which is crazy, right? I don't know; I thought so. :P**

**The chapter title comes from "This is Halloween" from The Nightmare Before Christmas, obviously. :P The AU we find ourselves in today is meeting at a Halloween party, which sounds lame, I know. But the actual scenario is hard to put into words, so we're going to leave it at that. Thanks for reading- I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

say it once, say it twice, take a chance and roll the dice

"So I know it's not really your thing," Caleb says, pausing to take a sip from his water bottle. "But Hanna's throwing a Halloween party Saturday night and I wanted to see if you'd like to come."

Toby hesitates and sighs, "Not really my thing might be an understatement."

"Come on, Toby. You didn't come to our housewarming party last month-" Caleb lists.

"I sent you a gift in the mail." Toby points out.

"- or Hanna's surprise party-"

"I was out of town!"

"I know," Caleb replies. "But you can't avoid us forever."

"I'm not avoiding either of you," Toby tells him honestly. "I love you both. I just don't like parties."

"But it's Halloween," Caleb says. "What are you going to do, otherwise? Sit at home in your empty apartment and hand out candy to trick-or-treaters? Live a little, man."

Toby frowns. "I don't 'live a little,' Caleb."

"Well," He shrugs. "Maybe you should start."

Toby sighs and knows, without a doubt, that his best friend is right. He's gotten into such a habit of going through all the motions of being alive and not truly _living_ that now, it's just second nature. Truth be told, he's always been introverted and private and situations like the one Caleb's presenting him with have always made anxiety creep into the back of his mind. Making small talk with strangers? Awkward dancing and alcohol? Forced merriment? Yeah, he'll pass. Or, usually he passes, and then people will stop inviting him and he always loses friends, this way. Caleb and Hanna are different; they call him out on his bullshit and never let him slip away from them. He supposes this is probably a good thing.

"Fine," Toby gives in. "What time do you want me to be there?"

Caleb grins. "I knew I could convince you; Hanna's going to be _so_ excited."

"Yeah, yeah," He waves it off. "Do you need me to bring anything?"

"Well, if you're going to offer, I'm not going to say no," Caleb says. "Party starts at eight; you can come anytime you want."

"Okay," Toby nods and tries to ignore the trepidation already filling his veins.

"And remember, it's a Halloween party," Caleb says. "So you have to come in costume."

He frowns. "You didn't say anything about costumes."

"Well what did you think we were going to do?" Caleb implores. "Throw a formal Halloween party? Have people wear their swimwear? That's ridiculous. I didn't think I had to mention it; it kind of comes with the territory."

"Fine, I'll wear a freaking costume," Toby shakes his head. "Is there anything else I need to know?"

"Yes," Caleb nods. "We're having a costume contest and the first prize is a $50 gift certificate to Olive Garden."

"Olive Garden?" Toby chuckles. "Nice. What are you and Hanna going as?"

"You want me to tell you? And give you ideas?" Caleb shakes his head. "No way. You'll see Saturday. Just pick a good one, okay? It's not like you're going to beat us, but second prize is good, too. Movie tickets and a free popcorn voucher."

Toby smirks. "Who's voting?"

"We have an impartial third party," Caleb insists and Toby nods.

"Emily?"

"Yep."

Toby gathers his things and goes to stand. "Well… I guess I've got to go figure out my costume."

"Yeah, you should get on that," Caleb agrees. "You've only got a couple of days."

Toby shakes his head. "I'll see you Saturday."

"You're going to have a good time," Caleb vows. "I promise!"

Toby calls back, "I'm holding you to that!"

* * *

Regardless of the fact that they're in their early twenties, probably too old to be having a costume party, Spencer knows her best friend and knows for a fact that even though she'd left high school, it had probably never left her. Either way, she doesn't buy into the notion that you have to dress as a sexy profession or even in some form of lingerie in order to have a good costume. She's always used historical figures and delighted in telling people about them whenever they would ask; one time, in eighth grade, she dressed as Joan of Arc and at the height of one of her impassioned explanations, had actually lit herself on fire to prove a point. Her mother had not been pleased, but people talked about it for weeks afterwards.

And this year is, of course, no different. She decides to try a slightly altered approach, though; she's all for female empowerment and not once has she chosen a woman of weaker means to portray, so when she comes up with her character this year, it follows along the same lines as always. So, she shows up to Hanna and Caleb's new house in a long, flowing skirt, a tunic tied off with a belt, a crown and a handkerchief spotted with fake blood. Her hair is wild and unkempt and she'd done her makeup to the best of her ability to make her appear as though she were crazed and sleep-deprived. Hanna opens the door, dressed in black lingerie, gloves up to her elbow, tan fishnets and a pair of black bunny ears on top of her head. She's grinning but when she gives Spencer the once-over, it fades just a bit.

"Hi!" Hanna exclaims and then falters. "What are you?"

"What are _you_?" Spencer wonders, stepping over the threshold. "You look like you just stepped off the set of _Mean Girls_."

Hanna shoots her a look, closing the front door. "I'm a Playboy bunny."

And then it all clicks into place. Spencer nods. "And Caleb is Hugh Hefner."

"Isn't it great?" Hanna chuckles. "It was my idea."

"You don't say?" Spencer teases and once again, Hanna prods her.

"And what are _you_?" She then pauses. "Wait, no, let me guess."

"Oh jeez."

"You're a flower child?"

"Not even close."

"A wench from the middle ages?"

Spencer deadpans. "Somehow, even _less_ close."

"A serial killer?" Hanna wonders and when Spencer shakes her head, the blonde shrugs. "You've got the crazy-eyed, bloody napkin thing down."

"I'm Lady Macbeth," Spencer fills her in and to Hanna's empty look, adds, "You know, from _Macbeth_?"

"Jane Austen?"

"Shakespeare," Spencer corrects humorously. "Did you even pay attention in school?"

"I took one English class in college, we did two Shakespeare plays and I got a C-," Hanna tells her. "What do you think?"

"But '_out, damn'd spot_'? Everyone knows that line, whether you've read it or not," Spencer says. "That's why I have the bloody handkerchief, Hanna."

"So…" She trails off. "Lady Macbeth was a murderer?"

"Lady Macbeth was a power-hungry, greed-induced feminist who took control of the kingdom when her husband failed to and was driven mad by her own transgressions," Spencer explains in perfect English-teacher form. "It's fascinating. Mostly because Shakespeare's female characters rarely ever got the spotlight and if they did, it was only for a wedding or a suicide."

"Wow," Hanna nods. "That's… supremely boring."

Spencer frowns. "It is not."

"I'm sorry; it totally is," Hanna shakes her head. "It's a cool costume, but I doubt anyone's going to know who you are."

"They will if they're well versed in Elizabethan literature," Spencer shoots back. "Let's go get a drink. As usual, you're _killing_ me."

Hanna chuckles and leads the way, the party in full swing before them. Spencer lifts the ladle and fills her cup with some much-needed alcohol, drinking slowly and grimacing as it burns her stomach. She spots Caleb across the way, dressed in the maroon robe and slippers, holding a pipe, and chuckles, because somehow, he and his Playboy bunny play the parts perfectly. She doesn't understand it, but the two of them have always been completely in sync with one another; knowing what the other wants without having to ask, guessing the end of a sentence when they hadn't even heard the beginning, and so on. It's the kind of couple stuff she had never been a fan of, but she has to admit, it _works_ for them. And as she's standing here, finishing her very strong drink alone, she finds herself wondering if she found the right person, would it work for her?

* * *

Toby adjusts the crown on his head and leans up against the wall, the floor vibrating with the thumping bass, making him feel as though he were in college again. The only parties he'd gone to back then had been the ones Caleb dragged him to, but even still, they'd never been his forte. He doesn't engage, much; he's much more content to stand idly by and people-watch. Both Hanna and Caleb thanked him for coming the moment he arrived and every now and then, one of them comes by to check on him, as if they're afraid he'll disappear if they don't tether him to the party. In all honesty, he's considering it; his costume is dumb, the music is dumb, parties are _dumb_.

He crosses the room into the kitchen to get himself a drink and as he's pouring himself a cup, a voice warns him, "Go easy on that stuff. I've had one cup and the entire room is spinning."

He smirks and turns in the direction it's coming from, his eyes landing on a beautiful brunette with sparkling eyes and a smile that could put the sun to shame. He nods and begins to ladle some into his own plastic cup. "Ah. You're a newbie to Hanna's party punch, huh?"

"No, not at all. She's been making this since we were in seventh grade," She replies. "I just always forget that she adds extra shots for special occasions."

"Really?" Toby asks and takes a sip, grimacing. "Oh wow. That's… Damn."

"Yeah," She nods knowingly. "You should've been here for our grad party. People were drunk before they even showed up and were throwing up in her closet and passing out in the bushes… It wasn't pretty."

"See, I usually skip these little get-togethers," Toby admits. "But you're really making me regret it, now."

She chuckles and then offers him her hand. "I'm Spencer. I've known Hanna since we could walk, basically, and you seem to know her pretty well too, and yet I've never seen you before tonight."

"Toby," He shakes her hand. "I was Caleb's roommate in college; that's how I met Hanna. And honestly, I do have a tendency to avoid the parties they invite me to."

"Oh, that's too bad," Spencer shrugs. "They're usually pretty fun."

"So they say," Toby replies. "I don't know. Parties aren't really my scene."

Spencer nods. "So what's your scene?"

He shakes his head. "You're going to make fun of me."

"I probably won't," Spencer grins. "But no guarantees."

"Well, I like to stay in," Toby admits hesitantly. "Watch TV. Read a book. And I don't mind hanging out with other people, just… Not like this."

To his surprise, she doesn't laugh at him or call him a freak as has happened many times before. She simply nods and smiles at him, saying, "That sounds like a pretty good scene. Really relaxing, actually. What do you read?"

"The classics, mostly," He shrugs. "I don't know. I'm not really into mainstream fiction. It's almost all exactly the same thing."

"Like nobody can come up with an original story," Spencer agrees. "And when they do, it almost always ties back to something that's already been told."

"Exactly," He nods. "I don't think anyone's ever agreed with me on that."

"Good books are hard to find," Spencer tells him. "I get where you're coming from, for sure. So which one's your favorite?"

Toby honestly doesn't know how he'd ever be able to choose. "_Catcher in the Rye_ is up there. I've read it dozens of times. _The Count of Monte Cristo_ is great, too. _The Great Gatsby_, _Of Mice and Men_, anything Shakespeare… That kind of stuff."

"Those are all really great choices," Spencer says and then thinks a moment. "For me, I think it would have to be _To Kill a Mockingbird_, _The Awakening_, really anything by Jodi Picoult, even though she's not a classic; she gets a pass. And of course, I'm a Shakespeare nut too. I mean, look at my costume."

"I thought so, but I didn't want to seem like an overzealous English major," Toby chuckles. "Your costume looks very Elizabethan."

"Thank you!" She exclaims victoriously. "I actually made it myself."

"You did?" He wonders and when she nods, he adds, "Well, that makes me look cheap. I tried to channel some Shakespeare with mine, but I had very little time and the costume shop had very few options."

"Wait," Spencer halts him. "You're wearing a crown and holding a dagger-"

"A bloody dagger," He puts in, grinning. "Are we playing a guessing game?"

"Shh, I've got this," She assures him and demands, "Lift your neck."

He chuckles. "My neck?"

"Look at the ceiling," Spencer says and when he does, she notes a jagged line of fake blood that encircles his throat. Then she gasps. "Are you Macbeth?"

"Damn. You're good," Toby grins. "You know your Shakespeare characters better than I do."

Her eyes are still wide and he doesn't quite know why. That is, until he glances at her costume, _really_ looks at it, and it hits him. "Are you Lady Macbeth?"

She nods, still paralyzed with shock, and Toby shakes his head. "So I'm Macbeth and you're Lady Macbeth."

"It appears that way," She confirms.

A pause and then Toby suggests, "Do you want to get out of here?"

Spencer nods. "Please."

* * *

They're laughing on the front porch now, away from it all, and Spencer begins to genuinely wonder if she's ever been this happy, if she's ever had this much fun. Toby has tears of mirth in his eyes when he asks her, "You seriously did that? You seriously lit yourself on fire?"

"Joan of Arc was burned at the stake," Spencer defends, grinning. "How else was I supposed to drive my point home?"

"I could list the ways," Toby laughs. "That seems like a legitimate safety concern. Why would you do that?"

"I was fine," She says. "I didn't burn myself. People actually really loved it. I was the girl with the flammable costume; it's kind of a legend."

"Every costume is flammable, Spencer," Toby tells her. "If you light it on fire."

"I was like thirteen," She chuckles. "What sense did I have?"

"Enough to make Joan of Arc a live show," Toby sighs. "That's hilarious. I don't even know what I would've said if I saw that."

"You would've thought I was bat-shit crazy," She fills in for him. "Everyone else did."

He sobers just a bit. "I thought you said everyone loved it?"

"Well, they did," Spencer shrugs. "But there's a difference between loving it for the message I was teaching them and loving it because I was making a spectacle of myself."

He frowns. "Oh. I'm sorry."

"No, that's okay," She's quick to assure him. "I didn't realize they were laughing _at_ me, not with me, until much, much later. I was a pretty naïve kid."

"Well, I wouldn't have laughed at you," Toby says and when she smirks, he insists. "No, really. I wouldn't have. Trust me, I got laughed at enough as a kid that I never would've done it to anyone else."

"Really?" She wonders. "What would people laugh at you for?"

"You name it," He shrugs. "No friends, messed up parents, lack of athletic finesse that made me a disaster in gym class… I had it all."

"I'm so sorry," She lays a hand on his arm. "Kids can be really mean."

"Yeah, but that's life, right?" Toby replies ironically. "How else would we have these _awesome_ stories to tell at parties fifteen years later?"

She grins. "You've got me there."

After a moment, she turns to him and gestures in between their two costumes, asking, "Are we going to talk about this? Because this is some freaky, soul-mate shit."

He chuckles. "It actually really is. It's creepy. It's like we were in each other's brains but we didn't even know it."

"That's _weird_," Spencer insists. "But your costume is on point for being rented from a costume shop."

"Thanks," He nods. "It's lacking a bit in authenticity, but I couldn't figure out how to show up to the party headless, but still alive."

She erupts in giggles. "If you figure out a way, let me know, because I'm _totally_ going as Anne Boleyn next year."

Toby grins. "That would be a good one. Although I don't know if you can top Lady Macbeth. She's kind of a badass."

"She's a _total_ badass," Spencer corrects. "I mean, she's a psycho, obviously, but the way she takes charge and gets shit done, questioning her husband's manhood the entire way… She's a legend. An inspiration."

"And that makes Macbeth kind of a coward, doesn't it?" Toby thinks a moment. "Because in the moment that mattered most, he couldn't go through with their plan and she had to do it for him. Virtually unheard of, back then."

"That's why I love Shakespeare," Spencer gushes. "He used topics and motifs that are revolutionary _now_, let alone back then. I mean, feminism, ambiguous sexuality, mental illness… It's all there."

"And you love _Macbeth_, obviously," He fills in and she nods.

"Obviously," She smiles. "_Hamlet's_ my favorite, but I couldn't go as Ophelia. She's weak."

"I should've gone as Hamlet," Toby smacks his forehead. "I didn't even think. Still as crazy as Macbeth and he still dies, but… No, pretty much the same."

Spencer chuckles and counters with, "Yeah, but if you went as Hamlet, we wouldn't have matched as perfectly as we do."

"I don't know," Toby says coyly. "I think we still would have."

Spencer grins and he grins back and she honestly doesn't know what's happening or who she is anymore, but this is _really_ nice. It's the kind of couple stuff she's expressed her dislike for over and over, but here she is, taking part, wearing a matching costume with a perfect stranger, and yet he feels as warm and familiar as ever. She's been talking with Toby for an hour, easily, and the time has passed without either of them noticing. She almost feels like she's known him her whole life and it's scary but it's new and exciting and she doesn't know what made him come to the party tonight, but whatever it was, she owes her newfound happiness to it.

The front door opens behind them and Emily appears, dressed as Luigi, her paper mustache lopsided. "Oh, here you guys are. I thought I saw you go out here. Come on; we're just about to announce the costume winners!"

Toby stands and offers Spencer a warm hand, which she accepts graciously. They follow Emily into the living room, where the music's been lowered and Hanna's standing on the coffee table. "Hi everyone! I want to thank you again for coming out to our Halloween party tonight! Is everyone having fun?"

Cheers and applause ring through the air and she grins. "Awesome! That's what we aim for! And now, without further ado, Emily's going to announce the costume contest winners! Let's hear it for Emily!"

She steps down and allows Emily to take the limelight instead as the brunette announces, "Hi guys! So you all look really, really great tonight and if I could pick all of you to win, I would. Unfortunately, we only have the winners and the runner-ups. So, in second place- drumroll, please!"

A galloping sound is made against knees and tables when Emily announces, "Toby and Spencer, who came as… Well, I don't really know what they are. But they look great!"

Everyone claps for them as they accept their prize and Spencer says, "We're Macbeth and Lady Macbeth. Come on, Em; _you_ at least paid attention in English class."

"Let's hear it for Toby and Spencer!" Emily says instead and then announces, "And now, in first place…"

Cheers and applause are heard when Caleb and Hanna are crowned victorious, to no one's surprise. Toby turns to Spencer and says, "I think the vote was rigged."

"I'll say," Spencer agrees. "I guess… I guess we'll have to take care of them, Elizabethan style."

"Plotting and executing their murder and taking their victory and crown?" Toby suggests.

Spencer grins. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

He pours them each a drink and they clink glasses together before downing half each and wincing as it burns all the way down. "I forgot how gross this is."

"And strong," She puts in and then asks, "So what did we win?"

"Movie tickets," Toby replies knowingly. "With a free popcorn voucher."

"Oh," Spencer nods. "So you get one and I get one."

He agrees. "I guess so."

"Or," She bites her lip. "We could both use them. Together."

Toby smiles at her. "We could do that."

"Looks like you and I have a date, then," Spencer says and he nods, grinning.

"Looks that way," Toby offers her his arm. "Milady?"

"Milord," Spencer chuckles, taking his extended arm as they brace themselves for the crowd.

And it's cheesy, undeniably cheesy, but her heart is fluttering uncontrollably and she's pretty sure she's going to get used to the couple stuff.


	15. your fingers cut like a knife

**Hi friends! I think today might actually, legitimately kill me, so if I never come back, it's been real, y'all. I have to work today from 11:45 a.m. to 1:30 a.m. Yeah. You read that right. Thirteen hours in Andy's room might kill me. I mean, it seriously might be the end of me. Send me away with sweet words and kind reviews, because I might not come back. :P**

**Today's AU is horror movie (AHHHHH!) and the song is "Until it Hurts" by Fransisca Hall (yes, same song as in 3x17 when Spencer has a dream she's making out with Toby and then he tries to strangle her. Good times). Hopefully you like it. I'm a fan of this one. But that means nothing, clearly; I was also a fan of chapter 8 (I'll be bringing that up from the grave :P). See you in another life, brother.**

* * *

rush of your chemical light, your fingers cut like a knife

She awakens in a room that's much like her own, but it must not be, because there's something different, something _off_ about it, and she doesn't feel safe. All of her awards and trophies are there, resting upon a shelf, and she can see the slight crack in her closet door, hiding most of her wardrobe. But sunshine isn't pouring through the window and her red chaise is gone; this can't be her bedroom. She pushes back the covers, flocks instantly to the rocking chair, and upends it. There's a sticker on the bottom with the name and number for a furniture store and Spencer frowns. That's when she knows. She's still here, she's still in this _place_, and –A is in this house, somewhere, waiting to strike.

The orange jumpsuit she's wearing is itchy and hot and uncomfortable, but the clothes in the closet aren't real. She has no choice but to suffer through. Reaching out towards the bedroom door, Spencer grasps the cool brass and is shocked to find the door's open, but this could be it; this could be her escape. She races about, gathering each of the girls who are just as shocked and confused as she is, but nonetheless pleased and ready to leave. The hallway is dark and they're unable to see five feet in front of them, and they're clinging to one another as though some invisible force might snatch one of them up if they don't. It isn't until they've made it to the very end of the hallway that Hanna hesitates.

"Wait, we have to go back," She pleads. "We can't leave Mona in here alone."

Aria wonders, "Because…?"

"Because she's my friend," Hanna frowns. "And she deserves a lot of things, but not death. Especially not in a place like this."

"Well, where is she?" Emily asks. "Because I haven't seen her since our fake prom."

"Her bedroom's at the end of the hall," Spencer fills in. "The _other_ end. Let's go."

They traipse backwards, back, back, until they hit another dead end. Of course it's Alison's bedroom, not Mona's, and it's directly across the hall from what would be Spencer's; the irony is not lost on her. They try to get the door open to no avail; pulling, tugging, and banging get them absolutely nowhere. Suddenly, a loud, piercing, screeching noise, like an alarm to waken the dead, rings through the air and the girls scream in fright and in shock and cover their ears. They wait for it to stop and when it does, moments later, Alison's bedroom door swings open and there's Mona, sitting in an armchair in the middle of the floor, her appendages roped to the arms and legs, her expression weary. When Hanna notes her friend's tied up, she steps forward to free her and gets electrically shocked; she cannot pass through the doorway while the current is running through.

"Ouch!" Hanna shrieks and rubs her hands up and down her arms. "What the hell?"

Spencer points towards the doorframe. "It's 450 volts. You're lucky it didn't kill you."

"Well, I didn't stick my whole body in," Hanna says. "And now I know not to."

Mona whimpers from across the room and struggles against her restraints. Aria promises, "We'll get you out of there, somehow."

"Spence, do you think we can figure out a way to get rid of this current?" Hanna asks. "Or maybe we can do something to it so it stops working? I don't know."

"Neither do I," Spencer offers her. "I'm not messing with electricity."

"Well we have to get her out!"

"How? How do you want me to do that?"

"Guys," Emily cuts them off. "Do you hear that?"

They stop shouting back and forth for just long enough to hear the ringing of a telephone. They search wildly for the source and Emily finds a cell phone on the floor in the corner of the hallway. She kneels down and answers apprehensively, "Hello?"

"_I want to play a game_."

"Who… Who is this?" Emily then asks, her voice shaking as everyone's eyes remain trained on her.

"_I think you know_."

"Charles?" She whispers and the girls' eyes widen.

"_What's your favorite scary movie, Emily?_"

"I don't…" She shakes her head. "I don't watch scary movies."

"_You don't? Aw, come on. You've got to have a favorite. Everyone has one. Do you like The Ring? Nightmare on Elm Street? The Exorcist?_"

"No," Emily refuses. "I'm hanging up."

"_I don't think you want to do that, Emily. If you hang up, Mona dies right here, right now_."

Emily's eyes widen and she asks, "What kind of game?"

"_There you go; now you're seeing things my way. Tell you what- I'll make you a deal. I'm going to ask you three questions and if you get them right, Mona goes free. If you don't, she'll stay with me._"

"Fine," Emily says and puts the phone on speaker, holding it out in front of her. "I'm ready."

"_Don't be so sure. Who was the killer in Halloween?_"

Emily falters immediately, but Hanna urges, "Michael Myers."

"_Correct, Hanna. Emily, I don't remember authorizing you to phone a friend_."

"I don't watch scary movies," Emily defends herself. "I told you that."

"_Well, that's too bad. How else are you going to know which horror film stars Jack Nicholson and is based upon a Stephen King novel of the same name?_"

"I, uh," Emily bites her lip. "I guess I won't."

"It's _The Shining_, Em," Spencer fills in.

"_Right you are, Spencer. Emily, things aren't looking too good for you_."

"Just ask me the last one," Emily insists. "So we can get Mona and get out of here."

"_Okay, Emily. How about you tell me who the killer is in Nightmare on Elm Street? You know, the one with knives for fingers?_"

"Jason!" Emily shouts immediately. "It's Jason, right? Jason?"

The other three girls shake their heads slowly and the voice on the phone chuckles. "_Wrong_."

Mona lets out a piercing yell and then she's silent. The girls' eyes snap to her figure and scream in unison at the sight of her blood and all her insides pouring onto the carpet. Hanna bursts into tears and Aria clings to her, shouting, "Oh my god. Oh my _god_!"

"_Are you still there, Emily?_"

"No," Emily says hoarsely. "No, how could you do that? How could you just-"

"_Now, you don't get to be angry with me, Emily. You knew the rules, remember? Lucky for you, there's a bonus round._"

"I don't want to play," Emily insists.

"_Of course you do. Your life depends on it_."

Emily glances at her fearful friends and draws in a shaky breath. "Change the category."

"_But movie trivia is so much fun! Here, I'll ask you a different kind of question this time. Who was the heroine, the good girl, in the Scream series?_"

Emily hesitates before finally saying, "I don't… I don't know."

"_Wrong again_."

Out of the silence and dead air come a gloved hand and a knife; it slips across Emily's throat and she coughs and sputters and collapses to the ground. The three girls before her scream in horror, shout her name over and over, and realize painfully that she's gone. Aria and Hanna race in the opposite direction and before Spencer can follow, she reaches out with a shaking hand and closes Emily's eyes. As a second thought, she also snatches the cell phone, hangs up on their tormentor, and tears off down the hall after her best friends. Tears are streaming down Aria's face and Hanna's still sobbing, and perhaps it hasn't hit Spencer yet or maybe she's in shock, but she finds her eyes completely dry.

"What do we do?" Aria asks. "We have to get out of here. We have to get help!"

"They're gone," Hanna cries. "He killed them _right_ in front of us!"

"I don't know," Spencer's shaking her head. "I don't know. One of these doors has to be our exit."

"Yeah, but what if we get out," Aria then says. "And it's just more of the same? An electric fence, barbed wire… And we're trapped again?"

They're interrupted by the ringing of the cell phone once more. Spencer can only stare at it, so Aria snatches it from her, instantly puts it on speaker, and growls, "What?"

"_Aw, that's no way to treat an old friend, Aria_."

"You're _not_ our friend," She insists. "What do you want?"

"_I want to play a game_."

"No," Spencer shakes her head. "We're not playing any more of your games."

"_I think you'll like this one, Spencer. It's a puzzle._"

"Didn't you hear her?" Aria asks. "We're not interested."

"_For everyone's sake, I'm going to pretend you didn't say that. In front of you, you'll find three doors, all unlocked. One of them contains your escape. One of them holds a terrible death. And the other houses the things you covet most in this world. You may open two of them and two alone_."

"The things we covet most in the world?" Spencer repeats and has an instantaneous flash of the one person she could never live without. "Oh my god, _no_."

"What?" Aria asks, seeming to have missed the beat. "What does that even mean?"

"Think about it," Spencer says and Hanna sobers up a bit, her anger unimaginable.

"If you have Caleb behind one of those doors, _I_ _swear to God_, I'm going to tear your head off."

"_Now, there's no need for that, is there? Just pick the right door and you'll be on your merry way_."

Spencer thinks a moment, falters, and panics when she realizes she has absolutely no clue what to do. It physically hurts her to think of what he'll do to Toby if she picks the wrong doors. She glances at each of them, willing her mind to connect with his in an effort to figure out where he is, almost like a GPS of sorts, and she wishes more than anything that this was just –A leading them off another cliff again. Finally, after a moment of agonizing silence, Spencer points towards the door on the far right. "That one."

"Are you sure?" Aria wonders nervously and Spencer shakes her head.

"No, of course not," Spencer replies. "How could I be sure?"

"You better be right," Hanna says and steps forward, twisting the doorknob and yanking it open.

And by some miracle, she is. Caleb tumbles out first, a black eye and bloody knuckles, then Ezra, stretching from the cramped quarters, and lastly Toby, a faraway look in his eyes that disappears the second he spots her. Spencer doesn't realize how hard she's trembling until she's in his arms and she holds onto him as if she hasn't seen him in a thousand years. Aria and Hanna are crying again, telling their paramours all about the horrors they'd just witnessed, but Spencer can't feel much of anything at all, right now. She pulls back just a bit to look Toby in the eye and he knows. He doesn't need her to explain, he doesn't need the gory details, because he already knows. She'll never understand how and she'll never stop thanking her lucky stars that most times, she doesn't have to spell it out for him.

"_Tick tock. You have another choice to make_."

In the relief of seeing Toby again, Spencer had honestly forgotten that this had been another one of –A's terrible schemes. Hanna picks the phone off the ground and says, "We're getting out of here. _All_ of us."

"_Sure you are. Why don't you just choose your door and we'll see if we can make that dream a reality?_"

Aria steps forward, eyes the middle door and the one on the left, and turns towards Spencer. "Any feelings on this one?"

"Um," Spencer pauses and suddenly she's hyper aware of everything. The smell of blood in the air and fear and pressure in the forefront of her mind and the feeling of Toby's hand on the small of her back. She remembers she's just witnessed not one, but _two_ murders and the shock's gone and all she wants to do is vomit and cry. "No, I don't. I don't know."

Aria purses her lips. "Eeny meeny miny mo."

"Let's do this together," Ezra says, stepping forward and slipping his hand into hers. "I'm not losing you again."

Aria smiles and reaches for the door on the left. She braces herself and opens it and it happens so fast, at first, no one even reacts. It isn't until their bodies crumple to the floor that Spencer notices the arrows through Aria's skull and Ezra's chest, their hands still intertwined, the ghost of complacent smiles still on their faces. Hanna shrieks and Spencer gasps and she suddenly feels like Alice, falling down the rabbit hole, desperate to gain control as she loses everyone she's ever cared about, right here before her eyes. The voice on the phone is chuckling maniacally again and they hear a clicking sound behind the third door, the one that would have been their escape, and they know it's locked. Hanna kicks the cell phone down the hall in frustration and cries out in pain.

"We're _not_ taking that with us," She reasons. "I'm not playing any more of his games."

"We have to get out of here," Spencer panics. "We have to get out. We have to go!"

"Let's go," Toby agrees. "Come on, let's go."

It's a hallway of endless doors and when they find one that isn't locked, they push it open and force themselves through. They're running blindly in the dark and they come to a dead end almost instantly, with the choice to go right or left, but not forward and they're certainly not going back. Hanna frets, "How do we know which one isn't going to kill us?"

"We have to split up," Caleb suggests. "We'll each go one way and then meet back in the middle in like five minutes and-"

"No," Spencer shakes her head. "No, we can't split up."

"Why not?" Hanna asks. "It's the only way."

"No, it's not," Spencer disagrees adamantly. "Haven't you ever seen a horror movie? You don't _ever_ split up. When you split up, you die."

"Spencer," Hanna pleads. "We're going to die either way."

"No, we're not," Spencer says. "Not if I have anything to say about it. We're going to make it. We _have_ to."

"Let's go right," Toby suggests. "And then if that turns out to not be the escape-"

"Hanna and I are going to go left," Caleb says and to Spencer's pained look, he adds, "Spence, I believe you and I trust you. I do. But we'll never know if we don't try."

Spencer's shaking her head immediately. "You're making a terrible mistake. I can't let you do this."

"But you have to," Hanna agrees. "It's our mistake to make."

With that, the two take off down the opposite side of the hall and Spencer is left feeling empty and betrayed. She turns to Toby, the only one she has left, and asks, "Do you want to go with them, too?"

"Of course not," Toby assures her. "I'm sticking with you until the end."

They walk slowly and carefully towards the end of the hallway and somehow, they find themselves at the top of a staircase. As they descend, the darkness ebbs away and is instead replaced by a brilliant, bright light that burns and blinds them after being in the obscurity for so long. They find themselves in the DiLaurentis's living room, where she and the girls had first found Mona days ago. It's empty and silent and Spencer realizes the sunlight pouring through the front window is an industrial-sized spotlight and she can't see anything past it, now. She walks carefully through the living room, notes the family photos of people who aren't Alison and her family, and tries very hard not to let the fear reach her face.

"I don't think this is our escape," Spencer says and turns to gauge Toby's reaction.

Her heart falls into the pit of her stomach when she realizes she's alone. Toby's not there. He was, he was right behind her, and now he isn't. Now fear and panic and anxiety fill her veins faster than adrenaline ever could and she whirls in all directions, calling for him. He was behind her on the stairs, she _knows_ he was, because she could feel his calming presence and could hear his steady breathing even though hers was shaky, at best. But he's gone now, as if he's vanished into thin air, and she cannot find him. There aren't any doors through which he could escape or she could search for him and the staircase isn't there anymore and she doesn't understand how. She can feel herself on the verge of a panic attack and this one is going to be brutal, but before she gets pushed over the edge, that piercing alarm comes over the speaker once more and she clutches her ears desperately before it all goes quiet.

"_I want to play a game_."

"Where's Toby?" Spencer shouts back. "What have you done with him?"

"_Since you failed to bring the phone with you, I guess I have to reach you the old fashioned way_."

"This isn't funny, Charles," Spencer says. "This isn't a game. You're a _murderer_."

"_You say potato…_"

"Where is he?" Spencer demands again. "If you touch him… I _swear_-"

"_We're going to play a little game. It's called Famous Last Words_."

Spencer's heart nearly stops in her chest. "No."

"_No? Come on, I'll bet you're really good at it. Let's try one on for size._"

A garbled recording comes over the intercom, then- _I'm bored with it all_.

"Winston Churchill," Spencer says regretfully.

"_That's right! See? You're good at this game. How about another?_"

The recording is back moments later- _I know you have come to kill me. Shoot coward, you are only going to kill a man_.

"Um," Spencer thinks a moment, wracking her brain. "I don't know. Che Guevara, right?"

"_Very good! You're two for two, now. How about a third?_"

The recording begins a third time and Spencer's heart begins to palpitate as she instantly recognizes the voice- _Don't do this. Kill me if you want to kill someone, but don't hurt her_.

"Oh my god," Spencer cries, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks. "Oh my god, _Caleb_."

"_Spencer, you're on a roll. But wait, I've got another one for you. A bit of a challenge, shall we say?_"

There's a bit of static on the recording at first, but when it goes clear, there are no words. Instead, heaving sobs interspersed with screams that Spencer knows all too well. She weeps, "Hanna. It's Hanna."

"_You're right. You've got it again. It's too bad your friends weren't as good at answering these questions as you are. Maybe it could've saved their lives_."

"Why?" Spencer begs to know. "Why are you doing this?"

"_Hold on, there's a bonus round. One more for you to pass the test_."

But now there's silence on the intercom and Spencer waits for the moment she's going to hear Toby's voice. It never comes. Instead, she hears heavy footsteps and when she turns around, Toby's there again, stumbling forward towards her, covered in his own blood. She goes to him instantly and he collapses against her, the two falling to the ground in shambles. Her hands are everywhere at once, not even sure where his wounds are but wanting to fix them all the same, and his eyes are glassy and unfocused until they rest upon her face. She's holding him against her as tightly as she can manage while also shaking like a leaf and she can feel the life leaving him as she tries so desperately to transfer some of her own.

"I'm sorry," Toby says softly and Spencer's sobbing, shaking her head.

"You didn't do anything," She assures him. "You didn't."

He dies in her arms moments later and without any more words between them. Spencer's left alone, hyperventilating on the floor, when suddenly, she feels a presence behind her. –A or Charles or whoever the hell he is stands there staring at her, mask and gloves and cloak still on as Spencer eyes him brokenly. "There. Are you happy now? Did I pass your stupid test?"

He says nothing, only reaches into his pocket and produces a knife. Spencer laughs bitterly. "Oh _awesome_. I went through all of this and you're just going to kill me too?"

He steps closer and nods and Spencer stands, backing into the wall. "At least tell me who you are. I've never heard of Charles DiLaurentis. Are you even a DiLaurentis?"

The masked figure shakes his head and reaches for her, but she dodges him and ducks towards the other side of the room. "You wanted to get to Alison all this time. You killed every single one of us. But do you see her here? Do you see her jumping to our aid? Maybe you went after the wrong people. Maybe you should've just gone straight to her instead."

The man reaches forward, grabs her shoulders and forces her to the ground. Spencer struggles for a moment and asks, "Why are you doing this? Who are you?"

She reaches for the mask just as he plunges the knife deep into her stomach.

* * *

She awakens clutching her stomach and gasping for breath, tears coming to her eyes and flowing freely before she can stop them. The red chaise is back and stars are twinkling in the sky outside her window, but she can't see them, now. All the horrors she's just relived come flooding back to her and she's sobbing again almost instantly. All the people she's lost, all the pain she's endured; it's all too much. The sound of her sobbing rouses him instantly and his arms are around her in a split second and he's whispering something to her, but she can't make it out. Not now, not yet. Instead, Spencer pushes the covers back, shrugs out of his embrace and steps onto her bedroom floor, fleeing towards the corner of the room where the rocking chair rests. She flips it upside down, checks for the sticker, and notes there isn't one to be found. This is her chair, this is her room, and she's back.

In a moment, Toby's by her side again and he's placed a warm hand on her back. "It was a nightmare, Spence. Just a nightmare."

"You were dead," She says, her voice hollow and haunted. "You were _all_ dead. Emily and Hanna and Caleb and Aria-"

"We're all still here," Toby assures her. "All of us."

"No," She's shaking her head. "You were dead; Charles killed you. And he killed me too."

She's rubbing her stomach, as if searching for the stab wound, and Toby gently covers her hand with his. "We found you in that bunker, Tanner and I. We brought you home. And Charles is long gone. He's locked up. Remember?"

Spencer meets Toby's eyes and suddenly, she does. She remembers the relief of seeing him there, of clinging to him like he was her lifeline, regardless of what Tanner thought. She remembers the long ride back to Rosewood and the police questioning and the bright light. She remembers the look on her parents' faces and she remembers the silence of her cell phone; she remembers Alison being released and Jason no longer looking at her like the failure she's always felt like to him. She remembers Toby, sweet, patient Toby, holding her that night and telling her no matter what, they were going to work through this and that nothing could ever touch his love and devotion to her. She remembers this and she remembers how he's proved it each and every day since.

Spencer melts and wraps an arm around his neck, bringing him as close to her as she can. She's still crying when she whispers, "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Toby insists, rubbing her back, kissing any part of her he can reach. "Come on. Let's go back to bed."

They fall ungracefully back into her cozy bed and she buries herself so far into his body, she's basically a part of him. He kisses her crown and says, "Try to get some rest, okay?"

"They're going to stop, aren't they?" Spencer asks instead. "The nightmares?"

"I hope so," Toby tells her. "We're not going to stop fighting them."

She takes his words to heart and sleepily murmurs, "Thank you."

He wonders, "For what?"

"For staying with me," Spencer replies with a touch of melancholy. "Even though I make your life hell."

"Oh Spence," Toby gives her a sad sort of smile, shaking his head. "_Not_ being with you makes my life hell."

Paradoxically, she doesn't understand and this makes perfect sense, so she lets it go.


	16. i would have loved you all my life

**Good morning friends! May the fourth be with you! I'm sorry; I know literally jack shit about Star Wars. But it's a huge deal down here because Disney owns Star Wars now and Hollywood Studios, where I work, has Star Wars weekends this month and next, so clearly I need to get it together. :P Anyway, thank you for your fabulous reviews on the previous chapter! It was fun to write; I'm glad it was fun to read.**

**Today's chapter title comes from "Losing Your Memory" by Ryan Star and therefore the AU we find ourselves in now is memory loss. Don't roll your eyes; I know it's cliche and overused. But I haven't written it yet, have I? So hopefully it doesn't suck. You should all listen to "Losing Your Memory" though because it's heartbreaking and beautiful. Anyway. Yeah. Enjoy this one, maybe? Let me know. Kay bye.**

* * *

i would have died, i would have loved you all my life

It happens right in the middle of town, just outside the Apple Rose Grille, and yet, a woman nursing her infant is the only witness. She tells police shakily that one moment everything had been fine and the next, chaos had erupted. She heard horns screaming into the morning and tires screeching and metal colliding and then the SUV had flipped and the Sedan's engine caught fire. The driver of the pick-up truck is an inconsolable mess, confessing that it's all his fault, his life is ruined, he's so, so sorry. Long hours, he claims, overnight routes and not enough sleep; he simply hadn't been paying close enough attention to his own red light. Police take him down to the station as ambulances and fire trucks arrive on scene, attempting to clean up the mess he'd left behind.

"Johnson!" An officer shouts as paramedics flock to the overturned SUV. "You see the people in the Sedan?"

"Family of three," Johnson confirms, nodding. "A father and two young kids, on their way to work and school. A little shaken up, but they were able to escape without harm."

The second man then asks, "Are they getting checked out?"

Johnson motions towards the far ambulance. "They're getting looked at."

"And what's up with the SUV?"

"A young girl's driving," Johnson says. "They're going to need the Jaws of Life to get her out."

They watch a moment as the firemen work to free the girl and an eerie sensation comes over Johnson as he examines the crumpled SUV further. "Hey, Kennedy?"

"Yeah?"

"What's Cavanaugh's schedule look like today?"

"He's off," Kennedy replies. "Why?"

He gets his answer the second the firemen free a young, dark-haired girl from the front seat of the overturned car. Johnson's eyes widen and he orders, "Good. Keep him the _hell_ away from this case."

"Shit," Kennedy curses out loud. "Is she breathing? Is she conscious?"

"Definitely unconscious," Johnson says as they both rush to the stretcher they're attaching her to. "Vitals?"

"Low BP, but she's breathing," A paramedic shouts at them. "Identification?"

"Spencer Hastings," Johnson frowns. "It's Spencer Hastings."

* * *

Toby Cavanaugh lives for his days off, because it's the only time he can separate himself from his workplace and spend uninterrupted time with Spencer. Things have been better between them, lately; he and Tanner had freed the girls from –A's lair a few weeks prior and Tanner had led her troops on a massive manhunt to find the perpetrator, so far to no avail. Toby's been working nights and weekends and has had to make many sacrifices along the way, but he refuses to let his relationship with Spencer be one of them. He knows she doesn't like what he's doing, but she's been more understanding of it, lately. They're certainly trying to work on their communication issues because now, after so long, they're finally realizing that this is the root of all their problems.

And so, this morning Toby wakes with a smile on his face because he knows today is all for them. They don't have plans, really; he doesn't know if she'll want to go out and have lunch together or stay in and snuggle all night. He's up for anything so long as he's with her. He dresses quickly and eats a small breakfast before searching endlessly for his phone. He has no idea where it could be; lately he's had a terrible habit of coming home from work, dead tired, and tossing his belongings wherever he can find space in the loft he hasn't had enough free time to clean. After what seems like hours, he finally locates his phone under a pile of paperwork he hadn't known he brought home and when he sees how many missed calls he has, he begins to panic just a bit. Even more dread fills his brain when he notices the number is from Spencer's landline.

And then, fear and anxiety race through his veins when he listens to the voicemail and it isn't from Spencer at all. "_Hi Toby, it's Veronica… Spencer's been in an accident… We don't know anything yet. We're in the emergency room now._"

Her voice is grave but unnaturally steady and it's all she says, but it's all she has to say. Toby's got shoes and a jacket on before he's even heard the end of the message and he's out the door not seconds later. He's shaking with fear and with anger and he just _knows_ that any second now, -A is going to take credit for this. He or she or it or _whomever_ it is had almost been caught weeks earlier, has the entire state of Pennsylvania on their tail, now, and that is reason enough to want each of the girls dead. Toby's easily doing twenty miles over the speed limit and he has to stop himself from running every red light he's forced to sit through. He slams the car in park when he arrives, races through the sliding doors and heads blindly in the direction of the emergency room. The girls are there, huddled in a broken mass in the corner of the room, and then he spots Spencer's parents. Veronica is pacing in a stony silence and Peter is green, looking as though any second, he'll be ill all over the floor.

"Toby," Veronica greets him first with a curt nod. "Thanks for coming."

She says this as if he had any other choice, as if he'd be anywhere else. Toby asks, "Is she okay? What happened? Do we know anything yet?"

"No," Veronica shakes her head. "We know nothing."

"I don't understand," He then says. "Where was she going? What happened?"

Veronica shoots a look at Peter, waiting expectantly for the explanation, and her husband clears his throat a little, uneasy. "I just asked her to pick up some milk… We were out."

"Apparently," Veronica sighs. "The driver of a pick-up truck fell asleep and coasted through a red light. She was t-boned and hit oncoming traffic… The car flipped. Overturned."

Toby turns away, unable to grasp the severity of the accident as tears sting his eyes. "Did they get the driver?"

"I don't know," She shakes her head. "But they brought her in and she's been in surgery ever since."

Toby nods and blinks rapidly, forcing himself to remain at least somewhat calm in the face of her parents. He sinks into a chair beside the girls and Hanna places a hand on his upper arm. "I'm sorry."

He sniffles a bit and says, "I'm sorry, too."

"She'll be okay, though, right?" Hanna then wonders. "She has to be."

"She's a fighter," Toby says honestly. "If anyone can get through this…"

But he doesn't finish his thought and for the first time, he realizes losing her is a very real possibility. Tears begin to flood his eyes again and he glances downward, trying to picture anything but the horrifying crash. Instead, he focuses on her, on how, the second he knows she's okay, he's going to storm the precinct and demand answers from the man responsible for this pain they're all enduring. He's going to Tanner immediately and demanding an increase in manpower to find –A and finally bring her- him? - down for good. Toby has done everything in his power, absolutely _everything_ he can, to try and protect Spencer, to keep her safe, and in the end, it hadn't mattered. She's lying in a hospital, bloodied and broken, and he's still sitting here, wondering how it all happened and why he's still so powerless.

A doctor approaches them then, a woman with a kind face despite the fact that she must bring nothing but bad news. "Mr. and Mrs. Hastings? I'm Dr. Albright. I have news on your daughter's condition."

"How is she?" Veronica asks immediately. "Is she going to be okay?"

"I'm afraid it's too early to tell," Dr. Albright says gently. "Her collarbone is broken and her left arm is fractured in three places. She sustained a few cracked ribs and had many pieces of glass from the windshield embedded into her skin, but we were able to remove them all without any major damage."

"Okay," Peter nods and he still looks as though he's going to be sick. "But she's alright?"

"Well," Dr. Albright hesitates. "We've placed Spencer under a medically-induced coma after a CT scan showed a small hemorrhage in the prefrontal cortex."

"She's bleeding into her brain," Veronica says quietly and the doctor nods.

"Unfortunately, yes," Dr. Albright confirms.

Toby can barely find the voice to ask, "But… But you can fix it, right?"

"We performed an emergency operation," Dr. Albright tells them. "In an effort to relieve the pressure on her skull and to drain the excess blood building up around the lobes of her brain. We were able to do so effectively, but unfortunately, we won't know the full effects of her condition while she remains comatose. If she wakes up-"

"If?" Toby cuts her off, his heart in his throat.

"If," Dr. Albright continues. "We will be able to monitor her condition and test her for any signs of sensory loss, paralysis or personality changes. She isn't breathing on her own, right now, and though she remains stable, it's touch and go from here on out."

"If she doesn't wake up," Peter begins and has to stop himself after those few words, for he cannot go on.

Veronica does so for him. "What happens then?"

"If she doesn't show any signs of improvement, you would authorize us to take her off life support," Dr. Albright says. "And you would sign a DNR."

"DNR?" Emily wants to know. "What is that?"

"A do-not-resuscitate order," Dr. Albright explains gently. "In the event that we turn off the ventilator, we would not perform CPR when Spencer would go into cardiac arrest."

Hanna pales. "That's sick."

Aria's shaking her head. "You can't do that."

"I'm not saying that's where this is going to lead," Dr. Albright tells them. "But if the time comes, that's one of your options."

"_No_," Toby states adamantly. "No, she's going to get through this. She's going to wake up and she's going to be fine."

Dr. Albright offers him a sad sort of smile. Veronica asks, "Can we see her?"

"She's in the ICU, so we'll have to ask that she only receives one visitor at a time," Dr. Albright says. "But yes. Right this way."

As they wait their turn in the hall, Toby shakes his head and murmurs, "It doesn't matter."

"What doesn't matter?" Emily asks through tears.

"Anything I do," Toby tells her. "I've tried _so_ hard to keep her safe… And it doesn't matter. None of it does."

"Toby," Aria shakes her head. "You can't blame yourself for this."

"I'm going to kill him," Toby then says, his fists clenching. "I'm going to find whoever did this and I'm going to _kill_ him."

"Toby…" Hanna trails off, but doesn't try to stop him. She must know better, by now.

When he gets his turn, however, all his anger fades away. The room is quiet and dark; the only light is a bedside lamp, but that's not at all what he's focused upon. Spencer's lying there, immobile, connected to so many different machines, it's making Toby's head spin. Her left arm is in a cast up to her shoulder and her head is wrapped in a thick white bandage. There's a long plastic tube down her throat and her breathing is unnatural, mechanic, and garbled and he has to remember that it's because the machine beside her is breathing for her. Her heart monitor is beeping steadily and the IV drips soundlessly into the needle in her right arm. She's a mess, but she's his beautiful mess, and he can't help himself; he dissolves into tears.

"I'm sorry, Spencer," He cries. "I'm so sorry."

He leans over her gently, ever so gently, so as not to break her even further, and kisses her forehead. "Get better soon, okay? I know you can do this. Please… _Please_ come back to me."

He says nothing more. He's not sure he can.

* * *

He storms into the precinct the very next day. Johnson glances up from his desk, startled, and asks, "Cavanaugh, what are you doing here?"

"I need to see Tanner _now_," Toby demands. "Where is she?"

"She's in a meeting," Johnson tries to reason with him. "Look, just calm down a minute and talk to me."

"Calm down? _Calm down?_" Toby shouts. "I am not going to calm down. The one person I care about more than anything in this world is lying in the hospital and the fucker who did this to her is still out there, somewhere."

Upon hearing his outburst, a door against the far wall opens and Tanner appears, a stern look on her face. "Toby, is there something I can help you with?"

"If you don't have people out there looking for the person responsible-"

"We brought him in this morning," Tanner says calmly. "He made a full confession and we're booking him as we speak."

Toby frowns and then says, "I want to talk to him."

"Absolutely not," Tanner refuses and Toby's blood boils all over again.

"He's the one," Toby argues. "The one who's been after the girls all along! Let me speak to him."

"I'm not going to allow that," Tanner disagrees. "And he isn't the one, Toby. He's just an overtired, overworked truck driver from Canada. He simply fell asleep at a red light."

"And plowed into Spencer's car!" Toby shouts back. "She's in a coma! She may never wake up!"

At the sound of this coming from his own mouth, his anger is gone and the tears are back, but he'll be damned if he cries in front of his boss. Tanner's face softens immediately and she says, "I'm sorry to hear that. Spencer being the victim here is the reason we don't want you on this case."

Toby sighs and says nothing. She then offers, "Look, why don't you take some time off? Paid, personal leave? I understand what she means to you and you aren't going to give this job your all when she's in critical condition."

"Thanks," Toby says glumly. "But I don't need to-"

"It wasn't a request, it's an order," Tanner tells him. "You have two weeks. I'll see you back then."

She turns and disappears once more and Toby is left behind, bewildered. Johnson clears his throat and offers, "I'm sorry. About Spencer, I mean."

It's sounds as if he's already lost her and Toby can't bear the implication. So he says, "She's going to be okay."

He doesn't know this to be true, but if he doesn't believe it, no one else will, either.

* * *

A week later, Toby's lying awake in bed, restless, after once again being kicked out by Spencer's ICU nurses when he receives the call from her mother. "_She triggered the vent._"

"What?" He sits up, alarmed, tugging shoes on and searching for his keys. "What does that mean? Is she okay?"

"_Toby, it's a good thing. She triggered the ventilator. It means she took a breath on her own_."

"Oh my god," He utters in relief. "Is she awake?"

"_No, not yet. But the doctors say it could happen any time, now_."

He's at the hospital in record time and informed that they've removed the ventilator and transferred her into a private room upstairs and out of the ICU. She already looks better, he thinks, the moment he lays his eyes on her, without that awful plastic tube down her throat. He's watching her chest rise and fall naturally, for once, and begging her telepathically to open her eyes, to awaken, to come back to all of them and grace them with her presence. He and her parents sit like this for hours, just watching her sleep and waiting for any kind of sign that she's going to return. It's after midnight when it finally happens; her fingers twitch on the blanket, her eyelids flutter and suddenly, she awakens, her beautiful brown eyes searching the entire room as if trying to take everything in at once.

"Spencer?" Veronica questions from her place at her daughter's bedside. "Oh, thank god."

Peter jumps up and heads for the door. "I'm getting the doctor."

Toby smiles encouragingly at her. "You scared me, Spence. You really scared me."

She doesn't say anything at first and Veronica falters a bit before asking, "You can hear us, right honey?"

Spencer nods slowly and quietly, still. Her mother then wonders, "Does anything hurt? Are you in pain?"

A small shake of the head. Her mouth opens and her voice is so soft, they have to strain to hear her. "Where am I?"

"You're in the hospital, sweetheart," Veronica tells her and Toby can see the struggle upon her face.

"What happened?"

"You were in a car accident," Toby tells her gently. "You've been in a coma for a week."

He watches her eyes drink him in, stare emptily at him for a long, long time, before her gaze slides back towards her mother and she asks, "Why is Toby Cavanaugh here?"

Veronica gives her a puzzled look. "Why wouldn't he be here, honey? He's your boyfriend."

"I don't…" She struggles even more. "I don't have a boyfriend."

Toby just stares at her, unable to believe what he's hearing. Veronica frowns. "Spencer… What are you talking about?"

The door opens then and Peter returns with Dr. Albright. She smiles at her patient and introduces herself. "Hi, Spencer. My name is Dr. Albright. I'm the one who's been taking care of you this past week."

Spencer makes no motion to show she's heard her. Veronica sighs and says, "I think her memory may have been affected by the pain medication you've given her."

"We haven't given her any pain medication," Dr. Albright says. "To do so would be a danger to her condition, considering her significant head trauma."

"Well then…" Veronica's shaking her head. "Then what… Why…?"

"I'm sorry," Spencer then says, but her eyes are on Toby and it takes him a full minute to realize she's talking to him.

"No," He finds himself shaking his head. "No, it's okay."

"Spencer, you know who you are, right?" Dr. Albright asks and the girl nods. "Great. Do you know what happened to you?"

"A car accident," She says quietly. "But I don't remember it."

"That's okay," Dr. Albright assures her. "And do you know how old you are?"

"Fourteen," She replies and when her parents' eyes widen, she wonders, "Right?"

"No," Peter says. "No, you're eighteen."

"Thank you, Spencer," Dr. Albright nods. "Why don't you try to get some rest, okay?"

Dr. Albright turns towards her parents and beckons for them to follow. "I would like to speak to both of you in the hall, if that's okay."

Toby asks, "Can I come too?"

The doctor smiles and nods. "Of course."

They leave a nurse to check Spencer's vitals, test her motor skills and even attempt to get her to take a few steps. Toby's watching from the doorway when the doctor's voice pulls him from his distracted reverie. "Amnesia is very common in head wounds of this nature."

"So that's it?" Veronica asks. "It's just amnesia? She doesn't remember anything?"

"No. All of her long-term memory is intact. That's a different part of the brain," Dr. Albright explains. "She may think she's fourteen, but I bet if you ask her something significant that happened last year or even the year prior, she would remember."

"So it's just her short-term memory that's gone," Peter says. "And will she get it back?"

The doctor shrugs. "Every case is different. She could wake up tomorrow and remember every last detail or she may never get her memory back. It's impossible to tell."

"What can we do?" Toby asks quietly. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

"Talk to her," Dr. Albright smiles. "Treat her like she's the same Spencer she's always been. Tell her stories, try to help her remember… It might help."

"But it might not," Peter frowns. "What do we do if it doesn't?"

"Then you try to help her live with it," Dr. Albright replies. "Her vitals are good, she's recovering well, and this is a minor setback, but it could be a lot worse."

She leaves them behind and the three of them watch as Spencer takes slow and easy steps across the hospital floor, back towards her bed. Peter sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. "I cannot believe this."

Veronica shakes her head. "It's unreal."

Toby, however, says nothing. He's still trying to get over the shock and unimaginable pain that hit him the moment she forgot who he was. They return to her room and he lets her parents talk to her for a while and remains quiet in the corner of the room. In Spencer's mind, she's fourteen, and when she was fourteen, they never spoke. Fourteen was the year before Alison was abducted and thus, was long before any of the pain and terror and fear that –A had brought them had ever started. And so, Toby's torn; does he tell her all of the stories of the years prior just so she'll remember him again? Or does he allow her to live in a world where –A never existed, so as to ease her all the pain their tormentor has caused?

Her parents stand to go and Toby does too, realizing the sun's coming up on a brand new day and he hasn't spoken a word in this conversation. As he's in the doorway, however, Spencer stops him. "Wait! Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," He agrees and steps closer to her, sinking into the chair her mother previously occupied. "Anything you want to know."

The confusion on her face makes his heart ache and he wants nothing more than to will it away. "Are you really my boyfriend?"

He nods slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, I am."

"How long have we been dating?"

"About a year and a half," Toby says. "Give or take."

Spencer processes this a moment before asking, "Are we in love?"

Toby smiles and confirms, "Yes. Very much."

She whispers her next question, as if the mere thought scandalizes her. "Do we have sex?"

He chuckles a little and wishes he hadn't, because she colors even further. "Yes."

Toby can see her mind working in overdrive, but she still comes up empty. "I-I'm sorry. I want to remember you, but… I can't."

He nods and assures her, "It's okay."

He waits until he's safely behind the wheel of his truck to allow the tears clouding his vision to spill over.

* * *

They catch the man posing as Charles DiLaurentis three days later, in a motel in Albuquerque. Relief floods Toby's veins and all he wants to do is bring this good news to Spencer, bask in the happiness that this madness is finally, _finally_ over, but he can't. She still looks at him with confusion and slight apprehension, and Toby knows she's wondering how or why she'd ever date Rosewood's social outcast, the guy who supposedly peeped through her window. The thing is, he hadn't had to tell her, in the past; she'd figured it out on her own that Alison was a liar and those things hadn't ever been true. How is he supposed to convey this now? He visits her everyday, staying most of the day, and for the most part, they just stare at one another and talk about her condition, not of improving it.

Today, though, is going to be different; Toby can feel it the moment he walks through the door. She's eating a turkey sandwich and watching trashy television, but when she notices he's here, she switches it off. "Hi Toby."

"Hey," He greets her and wants desperately to ask if she remembers him yet, even though he knows she doesn't. "How are you feeling today?"

"Okay," Spencer shrugs. "People around here tend to treat me like I'm made of glass."

"I'm sorry," He says. "Have the girls been by lately?"

"You just missed them," She answers. "They left about twenty minutes before you got here. They said you guys got some good news today, but they wouldn't tell me what. You'll tell me, won't you?"

He hesitates and she frowns. "How am I supposed to remember anything if you won't tell me what I'm supposed to be remembering?"

"Spencer," Toby sighs. "It's a really long story and it's scary and sad and painful, at times."

"Are you saying I'm better off not knowing?" Spencer wonders. "Did it change who I am? Or… who I was?"

"No, of course not," He assures her. "Nothing could change that. Not even this."

She nods. "Then tell me. Please."

"Your friend Alison went missing," Toby says reluctantly. "She pissed a lot of people off and someone wanted her dead. He began to stalk and torture you and the girls for about two years and we caught him today. He's in prison now."

Spencer's quiet a moment before saying, "You're going to have to give me more than that. Don't go easy on me, Toby."

For a moment, he's seen a flash of the real Spencer, of _his_ Spencer, and it makes him grin. "Okay. Okay, fine."

And so he tells her all about the –A texts, the black hoodies and Redcoat. He tells her about all the people who've died and all the people she and the girls suspected and all the times they were led, blindly, off of a cliff. He tells her all about the lies and the secrets and the guilt she's felt that have nearly torn her apart. When he's finished, she's shaking her head and he asks, "Are you okay?"

"That's so much information," Spencer frowns. "It's _too_ much information."

"I'm sorry," He's immediately apologetic. "I didn't mean to overwhelm you."

"No, I'm glad you finally told me," Spencer says. "Nobody else will just tell it like it is. They think I'm too fragile or that I can't handle it. But I'm still me."

"I know," Toby nods. "I know that better than anyone."

There's a long silence in which he watches as she processes all the awful things he's just told her. So much confusion, so much intrigue, so many unanswered questions, and they're all etched upon her face, laced together by her unreliable amnesia. He wishes he could make it better for her, wishes more than anything there was something- _anything_\- he could do to bring her back, but all he can do is watch her struggle (_powerless, always and forever_). After a moment, she bites her lip and glances at him, pensive.

"Toby?"

"Yeah?"

"Tell me about us."

"Us?" He questions and when she nods, he asks, "What do you want to know?"

"I don't remember any of it," Spencer says and it still feels like a knife to his heart. "So… Everything."

"Well…" He trails off and doesn't know where to start. "You came over to tutor me in French one day and I remember thinking it was so strange, because you hated me; you and all your friends. But you apologized; said you were wrong about me and we started hanging out a bit."

Spencer says, "We were friends first."

"Yeah," He nods. "I didn't have many of those. You asked for help figuring out what Jenna was up to and I agreed, eager just to spend time with you. I probably would've jumped off a cliff if you said that's what we were going to be doing. We spent the night in a motel and… The next morning, I kissed you. We've been together ever since."

He loses himself retelling the beginning of their love and different, significant points of their relationship, so much so that he almost doesn't notice when moments later, she's crying. Toby asks, alarmed, "Are you alright?"

"I don't remember," Spencer cries. "Why don't I remember, Toby?"

He sighs because truthfully, he's been asking himself the same question for days. "I don't know."

* * *

Spencer's released from the hospital on the same day Toby goes back to work. He spends the entire morning staring at the coffee in his mug and ignores the mountains of paperwork on his desk, avoiding Tanner's glare as she passes by him. He's doodling on the corner of a manila folder, when he hears his name. "Toby?"

He glances up and Spencer's standing before him and he's out of his seat before he can breathe. "Are you okay? What are you doing here?"

"I asked my mom to bring me," Spencer replies. "I need to talk to you."

"Okay," He nods and ushers her towards a quiet corner. "Okay, come on."

When they're secluded, he asks, "What's going on?"

"I remember things," Spencer whispers, as if she's afraid to confront it and have it disappear. "Not you and not everything, but little things."

His heart begins to beat a bit faster. "Like what?"

"I had a dream last night," Spencer says. "It was raining and you were in my kitchen wearing a black hoodie, like the one you said the people on that team wear? I was holding a key and I was upset… And when I woke up, I was crying."

Toby's eyes are downcast. "Oh."

"Was that a dream?" Spencer asks. "Or did that really happen?"

"It happened," He admits, ashamed. "It wasn't one of the better points in our relationship."

"You were one of them?" Spencer questions. "One of the ones you told me about?"

"Yes," He tells her. "But not for the reason you might think. I was trying to protect you… Only, I took it too far and I ended up doing more harm than good."

Spencer nods slowly and before he can dwell too long upon it, she announces, "I remember something else."

"What?"

"Scrabble," She says simply. "I don't know why. But it was there; it was all I could think about."

Toby smiles slowly. "We played Scrabble that first night together, in the motel. It's kind of our game. You were excited because you got ninety-six points for glyceraldehyde and then I beat you because I got a hundred and four for-"

"Goofball," She finishes and Toby's eyes widen.

"Yes," He nods fiercely. "You remember?"

"Not really," She shakes her head. "It just kind of came to me. I can see the game board and the score sheet… I don't remember playing it. I don't remember playing it with you. But we did."

"Yeah," Toby says. "We did. Do you remember anything else?"

She softly shakes her head. "No. I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay. We're getting there," He assures her. "Why are you sorry?"

"Because," Spencer insists. "Because you're trying so hard and you're so patient and you want me to get better _so_ badly, but I'm not. And I'm frustrated because… Because I want to remember you. Everything you've told me sounds so wonderful and you've been so sweet, but I don't remember and I may never remember you."

"So what?" He finds himself saying even though the thought of her remaining oblivious to their love physically pains him. "That doesn't change the way I feel about you. Spencer, I still love you."

"I know," Spencer says. "But maybe you shouldn't."

* * *

There's a harsh knocking on the front door of his loft and at first, Toby's too busy wallowing in his self-sorrow and frustration to hear it. It's pouring rain and for once, just like a movie, the weather matches his mood, he thinks as he stands and trudges towards his front door to see who could possibly want to keep him company now. When he yanks the door open, his eyes widen, because it's Spencer, standing there looking like a drowned rat, her teeth chattering, her lips blue, her skin and hair completely sodden. At first, he's dumbfounded because he honestly hadn't been expecting her and he isn't sure what to do. Before he can say anything, her eyes seek out his and she promptly bursts into tears.

Toby continues to stare at her, completely bewildered, and says, "Spencer-"

He doesn't get the chance to get another word out. She reaches out with her one good arm and pulls at his neck, lowering his mouth onto hers. It's been weeks, almost a month, even, since they last kissed and Toby can almost taste the last one, a goodnight kiss he had given her the night before everything had gone to hell. She's still trembling against him, but her lips are still soft and insistent upon his and he doesn't do anything to stop her. He couldn't if he wanted to; he's powerless, but this time, in the best possible way. They pause to breathe only once before she's kissing him again and again and again, and he thinks they may never stop kissing, a fate he has absolutely no complaint against. But just as he's getting used to the idea, she pulls away, steps back, and when his eyes flutter open he realizes she's still crying.

"Toby," She weeps. "I remember."

He staring at her, not daring to believe his ears, when he asks, "You remember?"

"I remember everything," Spencer says and she can't get the words out fast enough to prove it to him. "The truck and the Scrabble necklace and the pocket watch. I remember our first kiss and the first time we said I love you and our first time. I remember that time my dad yelled at you because of Jason and the hockey stick and I remember when he found us half naked, about to shower together. I remember both times we broke up and both times we got back together. I remember flan and the rocking chair and… and… I remember how much I love you. And it's so much, Toby; so, _so_ much. I love you."

"Oh my god," Toby says and suddenly, he's crying too. "You remember."

He collects her in his arms and he's kissing every last inch of her and she just keeps repeating, over and over, "I love you, Toby. God, I love you so much. I love you."

"I love you, too," He says in between kisses. "More than anything in this entire world."

Toby takes her inside, shuts the door, and wraps her in blankets and towels. They kiss and caress and make love long into the night.

She's back. And now, he realizes, he is too.


	17. now you don't want to stay

**Hi friends! Thank you for all your magnificent reviews on the last chapter! I'm honestly so humbled by them because, as usual, I wasn't expecting much. But you always blow my expectations out of the water. I'm glad you enjoyed and I hope you continue to enjoy, even though we only have three chapters left (not including this one, of course). You're all the best readers/reviewers/followers/etc. that a girl could ask for, truly.**

**Today's chapter title comes from "Slowly" by Barcelona and the AU we find ourselves in is criminals on the run. This one was not easy. Because Toby Cavanaugh is an angel with a heart of gold and despite all the stupid shit Spencer's done, she's a good person at heart. So I honestly cannot imagine them as criminals, and as you'll see, I bent the rules a little. But I hope you don't hate it, either way. It takes place directly after their kiss in 5x24 and goes AU from there. Enjoy, maybe?**

* * *

you dried up all the options, now you don't want to stay

Anger, so much anger, is still coursing through his veins and boiling in the pit of his stomach and tainting his blood and he wonders if he's kissing her too hard, holding her too tightly, loving her too much. There's so much he doesn't understand and so many things he needs to know before they move forward, but that's not what's important right now. What's important is the way her mouth feels on his, the urgency he feels to prove to her just how important she is to him, because somehow, he thought he'd been doing so all along and yet, they weren't on the same page. He lets his hands get reacquainted with the curve of her hips, the small of her back, the soft tresses of hair and she lets out an involuntary shudder that drives him wild.

They break apart almost as violently as they had come together and for a moment, they stand there in silence, staring at one another. He feels his anger start to dissipate, because as per the usual, he can't stay mad when he's around her, no matter what the cause. Her eyes immediately shift downward and she mutters, "You're not going to like what I did."

He frowns. "No. Probably not."

"I don't want to tell you when you're already mad at me," Spencer says, still avoiding his gaze and he shakes his head, a gentle hand coming to her chin to allow their eyes to meet.

"I'm not mad at you," He tells her honestly and truthfully, he's not. "I'm mad in general. I'm mad at myself, I'm mad at Tanner, I'm mad at the world for being a complete bastard when it wants to be. But Spence… I'm not mad at you."

She exhales heavily. "Not yet."

Before he can once again correct her, a garbled sound comes from his jacket pocket and it startles both of them. He reaches inside and presents his radio, frowning. "I forgot I had this with me. I'm sorry."

She shrugs, looking away, and he goes to switch it off when his name is called over the system. "Cavanaugh," he answers, shooting an apologetic look her way. She isn't looking at him.

It's a jumbled combination of code words and police jargon, but he concentrates anyway and when Spencer's name is thrown into the mix, her eyes lift and widen. Toby nods. "10-4, thank you."

"What's going on?" She wants to know instantly.

Toby hesitates. "The jury's reached a verdict on Alison's case. It's not good."

"She didn't," Spencer's shaking her head. "She didn't do anything."

"I know," Toby says. "There's more. They think… They think you and the girls were involved. Accomplices."

She freezes. "What?"

"There's a warrant out for your arrest," Toby informs her gently. "You, Emily and Aria."

"No," Spencer's shaking her head rapidly. "No, I can't go back to jail, Toby. I can't. They already have Alison, Hanna and Caleb… Toby, I _can't_."

"We'll think of something," Toby tells her. "We'll come up with a backup plan. We'll find some evidence or something…"

"Toby, there's nothing!" She exclaims and he can sense tears are near. "Oh my god. I can't do it. I can't go back."

"There is another way," Toby suggests, even though he knows it's suicide for both of them.

It doesn't matter. It's piqued her interest. "What?"

"We could run," He says. "We could go and never look back."

She considers this a moment before shaking her head. "No, I couldn't. What about Emily and Aria? Or Hanna and Caleb? I couldn't leave them behind."

"I know," Toby nods. "But you might not have a choice."

"But if we ran…" Spencer deliberates a moment. "When we get caught-"

"If we get caught," He corrects her and she hesitates.

"If we get caught," She amends her statement. "We'll be in even more trouble than if I just went now."

"Yeah," He nods. "That's the gamble."

"No," She says with finality moments later. "I can't leave them behind, Toby. I don't care what happens to me. We're all getting out or none of us are getting out."

He grins, because despite whatever she did that she claims is so terrible, at least she's still the same person he'd fallen in love with. "Okay."

She draws in a deep breath and says, "I'm going to jail tomorrow."

"Yes," Toby sobers a bit. "You are."

"I can do this," Spencer nods. "It'll be alright."

"It will," Toby promises her. "And I'll do everything in my power to help you."

She looks at him for a long time before blurting out, "Jonny kissed me. And when I was in London, Melissa's roommate did too."

He stares at her, unable to speak, and she once again averts her eyes. "I just wanted you to know before you lay the tracks for my runaway train."

Truthfully, he doesn't know what to do or say now that it's out in the open. He'd expected something of the sort, had suspected something was off since their conversation on the stairwell earlier that day, but even still, suspecting something and actually hearing it are two completely different things. Because he's an optimist, and there had still been a tiny sliver of him that had thought maybe she was making a mountain out of a molehill. He knows she's waiting for him to make some kind of scene; to yell at her, maybe, or storm out dramatically like he's so good at doing, but he doesn't do either of these things. Instead, he inhales a deep breath, tries to ignore the mental picture of her kissing not one, but two other guys, and forces the pain he's feeling into the back of his mind.

"Spencer?"

"Yes?"

"I'm going to do whatever I can to help you."

She looks up at him, alarmed. "And then?"

"And then," Toby shrugs. "We'll go from there. I'll find evidence, I won't stop looking, and I'll get you out of jail, one way or another."

"No, wait," She shakes her head. "I thought you were going to break up with me."

Toby stares at her, hard. "Why would I do that?"

"Because I hurt you," She says and her voice is shaking and there are tears in her eyes. "I kissed two other guys. I didn't stop them, I didn't tell them I had a boyfriend… I just let it happen. I thought… I _assumed_ you wouldn't want to be with me after you knew. I didn't think you would ever forgive me."

He steps a bit closer, cupping her cheek. "But I do."

The tears finally spill over and his heart physically aches when he senses the self-hatred in her eyes. "Why?"

"Because," He tells her simply. "I can see it's killing you just as much as it's killing me."

She lets out a sob and he pulls her none too gently against him, murmuring, "You once forgave me for the biggest mistake _I've_ ever made. How could I ever not do the same?"

"This is different," She cries. "You were trying to protect me. I…"

"You were what?" Toby wonders. "Trying to hurt me?"

"No," She shakes her head. "I was trying to forget."

"Me?" He asks and she nods tearfully against his shoulder. "Why?"

"I thought it might be easier," She admits regrettably. "But it wasn't and I don't want easy, anyway. I want this. I want _you_."

"I want you, too, Spencer," He promises her, kissing her temple. "And nothing, literally nothing, could ever change that."

He holds her all night long and hopes this will be enough to convince her.

* * *

Prison life doesn't suit her; it hadn't last time, either. Spencer's surprised at how well Hanna takes it, to be honest, because this is nothing like her life of shopping, manicures and high heels, but she isn't surprised at all at how comfortable Alison is here, as if this is her second home. The prison jumpsuit is starchy and smells of intense sweat; no amount of scrubbing and washing could ever make it smell clean. Emily doesn't sleep a wink and Aria's the first to crack, throwing a near temper tantrum out of panic and frustration. Spencer doesn't see an end in sight; she'd never been an optimist, but when Toby had promised her things would get better, that he'd find _something_ to get her out of here, she'd actually believed him. It isn't as though her faith in him could ever wane, but she's pretty sure she's lost all faith in her situation.

Caleb gets out a few days after they book him, but then again, he hadn't been in on real charges, anyway. He visits Hanna everyday and Spencer does all she can to hide her envy. Toby isn't allowed to visit her; some stupid clause about a conflict of interests. Sometimes, she finds herself wishing he wasn't so noble and then she hates herself just a tiny bit, because how dare she wish away one of the best parts of her boyfriend, one of the parts she loves the most? All day and all night, Spencer lies awake in her bunk, listening to the slow drip of the leaky faucet and Emily snoring lightly a few cells away. She doesn't sleep anymore. No, that's not true, because it's physically impossible. So, of course she sleeps, but it's restless and filled with nightmares and it isn't more than three hours a night. She knows; she's keeping track.

Two weeks into her imprisonment, Spencer begins to go a little stir crazy. She needs to see the sunlight and she needs to stretch her legs and _dear God_, she needs to see Toby before she loses her mind (again). It's late; probably about three or four in the morning, if she had to guess, and the entire floor is quiet until it isn't. There's a sound of footsteps on the harsh metal and Spencer sits up straight, wondering if their cells are going to get thrown again. She's a good girl; she doesn't have any contraband, but it still doesn't feel good to watch all her belongings get tossed about by a guard who doesn't give a flying fuck about her. But that's not what happens. There's the sound of keys jingling, the sound of hushed whispers and then more footsteps; she thinks she hears Hanna giggle, but she can't be sure. All of a sudden, a flashlight peers into her cell and she squints immediately.

"Spencer," a voice calls quietly and her heart begins to pound because it's _him_. "I'm getting you out of here."

When her eyes focus, she notices he's standing there in full uniform and Caleb's behind him, trying to keep the girls quiet. She must be the last of their jailbreak; Aria, Emily, Hanna and even Alison are huddled behind him. "What… What are you doing here?"

"There's no evidence that proves your innocence," Toby tells her. "I can't figure anything out. So I'm breaking you out. We're leaving. _Now_."

"Wait," She stands, giddy and nervous at the same time. "How? What-"

"There will be time for questions later," He assures her. "Right now, we've got to _go_."

He leads them to the exit at the end of the hall, ushers them out the door and into the two awaiting cars, and then returns inside to replace the keys, Spencer's guessing. She's sitting in the front seat of the truck, utterly confused, when he leans across the space between them to kiss her soundly. He nuzzles their noses together when they're through and says, "Missed you."

"I missed you, too," She tells him and hopes he understands what an understatement that is. "Where are we going?"

"Anywhere away from here," Toby says. "It won't take them long to notice you've gone."

"My parents," Spencer says. "They'll worry."

"Yes, they probably will," Toby agrees. "We'll have to figure out a way to let them know you're okay without giving away our location."

She sits a moment, processing, as he changes lanes and heads for the highway. He glances at her and asks, "You want to do this or not?"

"I do," She nods. "I really do."

And it isn't until they're halfway to New York that she panics and asks, "Wait, Toby! You'll lose your job! You'll never be able to become a cop again."

"I've got more important things to focus on," He tells her honestly. "Besides, the only reason I became a cop was to help you, to keep you safe. And what kind of trouble can you get yourself into while you're with me?"

Spencer grins. "I can think of some things."

He chuckles. "Of course you can."

She watches him, determination on his face and love in his eyes, and wonders how she could ever feel unwanted by this wonderful man before her. On the contrary, she was _all_ he wanted; she just hadn't been able to see it through her stubbornness and anxieties. It made her feel inadequate somehow, as though if she couldn't feel the love he was obviously throwing her way, she didn't deserve it. He'd told her, weeks ago in her kitchen, that he'd never choose between her and his job and of course, what kind of heathen would she be if she asked him to? But here he is, giving up everything he'd ever had to go on the run with her, and she can't help but feel like even though he said he wouldn't choose, he basically just did. The depth of his love for her never ceases to amaze her and it has always taken her aback. If there's anything she needs to do, now, it's to prove to him her feelings are just as great.

"Where are we going?" She asks, leaning back against the seat.

"I thought I'd leave that up to you," Toby shrugs. "Caleb made us fake passports… They're actually scarily convincing."

She frowns and he must catch something in her eyes, for he asks, "What's wrong?"

"You don't want to do this, Toby," Spencer insists. "You have your whole life ahead of you and your career is just taking off and I don't want to be the one to ruin it for you."

"Spencer, you couldn't ruin anything," He tells her. "I'm doing this because I want to be with you and I needed to get you out of that place. You don't deserve to be in there; you've done nothing wrong."

"But now you have. You'll be in just as much trouble as I am," She says and it's like déjà vu from their prior conversation. "You've had enough unwarranted legal trouble in the past and you really don't need any more."

"You're not going to convince me to turn back," Toby insists. "I'm not going to be the one to take you back to prison."

"I don't want to go back," Spencer says. "We're all out, like I wanted. But… Maybe you should let me do this alone. I don't want to drag you down with me."

"You're not dragging me anywhere; I'm going willingly," He says. "You forget that I've got a lot of experience running."

This takes her by surprise because yeah, it's true. He's been doing this before she ever knew him intimately and if she's going to run from the law with anyone, it should be with him. She thinks long and hard and then says, "Toronto."

"Toronto?" Toby asks.

She nods. "I've never seen it."

"Me either," He shrugs. "Toronto it is."

The truck picks up speed, kicks up dust on the road, and they're gone.

* * *

They stop in Buffalo for the night, just south of the Canadian border, and pay cash for a room in a no-tell motel off the beaten path. It looks like the one they have back in Rosewood and for a moment, they're hit with a bit of nostalgia, wishing they were still those silly, innocent kids with nothing to fear. They watch three episodes of _House Hunters International_ and make love beneath the damp sheets of the bed and for the first time in weeks, they both sleep soundly and late into the morning. Grabbing breakfast from the coffee shop down the road, they make for the border, are not given a second glance when crossing, and head into Canada, bound for Toronto.

Turns out, there's not much to see in Toronto; they go the Canadian side of the Falls and fall asleep in the hockey hall of fame and rave about the coffee at Tim Hortons. They find a mailbox and send Spencer's parents a note with no return address, informing them she's fine and would contact them at a later date, when it's safe to do so, when it all blows over. –A can't communicate with them internationally, apparently, because both of their phones remain silent and he or she doesn't randomly appear as he or she was so used to doing in the States. By the end of the day, they've booked another night in a motel and plane tickets for the end of the week. They look a little strange paying in cash, but the teller does not bat an eye. He must've seen this before.

The next morning, they buy disposable toothbrushes from a gas station and avert their eyes when two Mounties enter, looking for donuts.

* * *

"Let's go to Montreal next," Spencer suggests and Toby smirks from the passenger seat, shaking his head.

"I knew it was a bad idea to let you drive," He teases. "I don't think my poor truck can take it."

"Oh come on, it isn't that far," Spencer reasons. "A couple hours, maybe?"

"Try five," Toby says. "But whatever. It's your call."

"We can try out our French," She suggests. "It's basically a second France up there."

Toby chuckles. "I'm not sure I remember it."

She gasps. "You better. I didn't tutor you for nothing."

When they do arrive in Montreal, they make fools of themselves; or, at least Toby does. His French is extremely rusty and he mixes up a bunch of words and puts accents on the wrong syllables and Spencer has to apologize and explain him away. She sounds like French is her native tongue and he isn't surprised; he just nods and smiles along. They eat dinner that night at a little café on the water and it just might be the first time they've ever dated and hadn't had to worry about –A breaking up the serenity the way only she could. They tense a little bit when they pass a newsstand with papers detailing a mass escape from an American prison and they spend the night in the bed of the truck, fearing to be caught and holding one another as if they're all the other has.

Truthfully, they really are.

* * *

They're in London a year later, walking hand in hand through Hyde Park, when Spencer gets the call. It's Hanna and she's out of breath, saying, "_It's over. Ali took –A down. I don't know how, Spence, but -A's in jail. All the charges against us were dropped_."

"What?" Spencer exclaims and stops walking. "How?"

"_Caleb said something about a statue- no? What is it?_"

"Statute of limitations," Spencer corrects her, rolling her eyes. "But that has nothing to do with Ali. The charges run out since they haven't caught us by now."

"Oh yeah," Toby seems to realize. "We're free, now."

"_Yeah, sure, that. Look, Caleb and I are on the first flight back. All this tequila and sunshine has turned me into someone I don't even know_."

Spencer smirks. "You're the one who wanted to go to Rio."

"_See you soon?_"

"Yeah, sure," She replies and hangs up. They keep walking and find themselves in front of the statue of Peter Pan before she sighs and tells him what's up. "-A's gone. Ali… She took him down. Her? I don't even know."

"How?" Toby wonders and thunder begins to rumble overhead.

"I don't know," Spencer shrugs. "I don't really know much of anything anymore."

"Oh," He says. "Well, do you want to go back?"

"I guess it would be nice to see my parents again," Spencer considers. "They're still pissed they don't know exactly where I am."

"Well, now they can," Toby says. "No one can come after us, now."

"But on the other hand," Spencer considers and it begins to rain. "It's been a really great year and I'm kind of in love with our life here."

"Plus," Toby puts in, opening an umbrella as they huddle against it. People all around them are ducking away for cover, but they don't mind the rain anymore. "If we left, I'd be breaking my promise to you."

Spencer glances at him, alarmed. "What promise?"

"Of coming to London," Toby reminds her. "And never going back."

She grins as she remembers her words from so long ago. The rain continues to fall steadily from the dark grey clouds, but they take the long way home, anyway.

And they never go back to Rosewood.


	18. just two kids you and i

**Good morning all! How are you all doing on this wonderful day? Do you know what today is? Do you? It's okay if you don't. It's my one year anniversary of graduating from college haha. I literally cannot believe it's been so long already, especially considering the crazy journey working for the mouse has been since then. Anyway, enough of my rambling, right? I'm sorry I didn't update sooner. My roommate and I moved on Friday and then yesterday I flew home for the week. But I'm back, with update one of the three we have left. :P**

**Today's chapter title comes from "Mary's Song (Oh My, My, My)" by Taylor Swift and the AU we find ourselves in is childhood best friends. It was very enjoyable to write so I hope it's even mildly enjoyable to read. Thank you for your continued support and I'll see you around! Love you fools!**

* * *

just two kids, you and i  


They're perched on beach towels in her driveway, eating grilled cheese sandwiches and sipping lemonade to beat the intense summer heat. Their bathing suits are still damp and water droplets from the ends of her pigtails are dripping down her back, making her squirm and fidget every so often. Her mother had been fed up with entertaining them all day and had sent them outside with lunches and a request for them to find something, _anything_, to do so she could finally get some work done. Spencer hadn't ever really understood why grown-ups hate summer vacation so much until today; until she realized that they don't _get_ a summer vacation. That's just for kids. And upon that realization, she decides she never wants to grow up.

"What do you think being a grown-up is like?" Spencer then asks and if anyone is going to know, it's her best friend Toby. He's a whole year older, after all.

He thinks a moment before shrugging. "I don't know. A lot of work, probably."

"Do you think they get to have fun?" Spencer wonders and again, Toby doesn't know.

"My mom and dad don't really have a lot of fun, I don't think," Toby disagrees. "Do yours?"

"No way," She shakes her head. "They're really boring."

He nods, finishing his lunch and slipping his shirt and shoes back on. "What do you want to do now?"

"I don't know," Spencer says. "We could go for a bike ride? Maybe we could go to the park. There isn't really anything to do here."

"You think your mom will let us?" Toby asks. "I can't leave my house without my mom or dad."

Spencer shrugs. "Melissa does it all the time."

"Yeah but Melissa's twelve," Toby points out. "She's like practically a grown-up."

"And I'm six, so that makes me a baby?" Spencer eyes him, crossing her arms over her chest.

"No," Toby assures her. "But we're probably still too young. Plus, my bike's at my house."

"You can ride in my basket," She offers. "I'll even let you ring the bell."

Toby laughs. "No way! It's too small!"

"Fine," Spencer says. "How about we play on the swings?"

"Okay."

"Race you there!"

"That's not fair!" Toby calls after her. "I'm not as fast as you!"

She laughs the whole way there and dives onto one of the swings mere minutes before he does. Toby frowns and sinks into the one beside her, saying, "One day, I'm going to be faster than you. You'll see."

"I don't think so," Spencer shakes her head. "Not if my parents keep making me do all these stupid things."

"Like what?" Toby asks, the chains cool between his hands.

She sighs and begins to list. "Horseback riding and tennis and now they want me to do field hockey. I don't know what that is."

"You'll probably be good at it," Toby tells her. "You're good at everything."

"Thanks," She sighs. "I guess so."

After a moment she brightens and says, "Let's see who can swing higher!"

She pushes her legs out in front of her and Toby begins to do the same, sliding a little in the seat when his bathing suit meets the slick vinyl. "You're going _down_, Spence. I'm so good at swings."

"You can't be good at swings," Spencer shakes her head, sailing back and forth through the air. "It's not even something you can be good at."

"But I am," Toby tells her. "Watch- let's jump off and I bet I'll land farther than you."

"You're on!" She shouts back. "On the count of three!"

"One!"

"Two!"

"Three!"

Toby leaps from his swing, lands ungracefully on the ground a few feet away and cheers when he sees Spencer's come short of his landing spot. "See? I told you!"

"No fair," She pouts, wiping bits of grass off her legs. "You're taller than me."

"And older and better at swings," He continues. "It's okay. You're better at everything else."

"Let's do it again," Spencer requests giddily. "I have to practice now, right?"

As they head back towards the swings, they hear a ruffling of trees and the snapping of twigs and suddenly, at the edge of her property, a little blonde girl appears and Toby tenses immediately. He's _not_ a fan of Alison DiLaurentis and she's not fond of him, either. The smile slips off his face and he takes a step backwards just as Spencer wraps a hand around the cool metal of the swing set and greets her quietly. "Hi Alison."

"Hi Spencer," Alison says and doesn't even acknowledge Toby. "My dad just got back from New York and he brought me _two_ new dolls. They're so pretty. Do you want to come over and play?"

"No thanks," Spencer shakes her head slowly. "I'm playing with Toby."

Alison glances in his direction as if she hadn't noticed he was there. "I heard you out here having fun but I thought one of your friends were here. Not Creepy Cavanaugh."

"Toby is my friend. He's my best friend," Spencer's eyes narrow. "Don't call him that."

"That's what everybody calls him," Alison shrugs.

"Yeah, 'cause _you_ started it," Spencer replies angrily. "Go away, Ali."

"He's a freak."

"Go _away_, Ali!"

She does, her blonde curls swishing behind her as she disappears back into the tree line. Spencer turns back to Toby, who's looking at the ground, and shakes her head. "Don't listen to her, Toby. She's just a bully. She's just mad because she doesn't have any friends."

Toby nods, but doesn't lift his gaze. "Thanks."

"Let's play a game," Spencer suggests. "Let's play Truth or Dare."

"Truth or Dare?" Toby questions, confused. "What's that?"

"It's a game Melissa plays with her friends when they sleep over," She explains. "You pick truth or dare and if you pick truth, you have to tell the truth when I ask a question and if you pick dare, I get to make you do something."

"Okay," He shrugs. She claps excitedly.

"Truth or Dare?"

He hesitates when he says, "Truth."

"Boring," She teases. "Are you excited to start second grade?"

Toby shrugs. "I guess so. I'm kinda scared."

"Why?"

"I don't like when things change," He offers her and then frowns. "That was _two_ questions."

She covers her mouth when she giggles. "Sorry."

"Truth or Dare, Spencer?"

"Dare," She says boldly, shooting him a look.

"I dare you," He thinks a moment before grinning. "I dare you to climb to the top of that tree and jump off."

She rolls her eyes. "That's easy."

He watches her take on the tallest tree in her backyard, climbing higher and higher until she's reached the very last branch. He begins to regret asking her to jump off; what if she hurts herself? What if she breaks an arm or a leg? It'll be his fault; he told her to do it. Just as he's about to take it back, she leaps out in front of her, lands effortlessly on the ground and brushes her hands together, grinning at him. "You didn't even give me a hard one."

Toby shakes his head. "I'm not good at this game either."

Spencer smirks. "Truth or Dare?"

"Dare," He says and immediately wants to take it back the moment a wicked grin covers her face.

"I dare you," She says in a singsong voice. "To kiss me."

"Kiss you?" Toby balks. "Ew. No way."

"It's a dare," Spencer points out. "You _have_ to do it."

"Fine," Toby frowns and steps closer to her, leaning forward.

Just as their lips are about to meet, Spencer takes off running in the opposite direction, her hair flying wildly behind her, peals of laughter erupting from her lips. "Try and catch me!"

Toby stands back a moment, bewildered. His best friend is a whirlwind, sometimes.

* * *

Fifth grade sucks; at least, that's what Spencer's decided about a week or so into it. It isn't for any of the reasons she can control; she likes her teacher and she's acing all the subjects and all the talk about middle school is nonetheless exciting. It's just because she has to make it through a whole year before she can be in the same school as Toby again and that thought doesn't sit well with her. They've pretty much been inseparable since they met in daycare years and years ago and at least they still get to hang out on weekends. It's a Friday night, now, and Spencer returns home to the sound of her parents arguing, as per the usual. Melissa's in her room with her new boyfriend, already talking about junior prom even though it's not for months and months and Spencer just needs to get out of here. She needs an escape.

She packs her things and heads down the street, showing up on Toby's front porch a few minutes later. He answers the door and greets her with a smile. "Hey. What's up?"

"My parents are fighting again," Spencer frowns. "I need a quiet place to do my homework."

"On a Friday night?" Toby teases, but opens the door fully so she can step through. "That's no fun."

"But if I get it done now, I'll have the whole weekend," Spencer counters. "Why? Are you not going to do yours?"

"I don't have any," Toby shrugs. "I had a little history to do, but I finished it on the bus."

"History, earth science, literature," Spencer lists excitedly. "I can't wait to get to middle school. All the classes sound so much better."

"They're pretty much the same," Toby shrugs as they head upstairs towards his bedroom. "They just call them different things."

She's halfway through a particularly difficult math problem when she remembers. "Emily's birthday party is Sunday. Are you going to come?"

Toby hesitates. "Is Alison going to be there?"

"Yes," Spencer frowns. "But you can just ignore her."

"I don't know."

"Come on, Toby," Spencer pleads. "Emily really wants you to be there. I do, too."

"I know," Toby says. "I don't want to let her down but I also don't want to be anywhere that Alison is."

"But her party's at the laser tag place and that place is _huge_. You probably won't even run into her," Spencer says. "Plus, if you do, you can just shoot her and get her out."

Toby sighs and picks at his bedspread a bit before he asks, "Why are you guys even friends with her?"

Spencer frowns. "I don't know. She's really understanding, you know? She was there for me when my parents had that _really_ bad fight, remember? The one about Jason?"

"I was there for you, too," Toby says dejectedly. "And I'm not mean to people like she is."

"No, I know, but… I don't know. She's different," Spencer shrugs. "She's just the kind of person you _want_ to be friends with, even though I know I probably shouldn't be."

"So it's okay the way she treats me and everyone else," Toby asks. "As long as she doesn't do it to you?"

"No!" Spencer cries, desperately trying to make him understand. "That's not what I meant! I just… I don't know. I don't know how to explain it!"

"It's okay," Toby shrugs. "I don't think I'm going to go to Emily's party. But I'll still give her the present I made her. On Monday, or something."

There's a soft knock on his bedroom door and they both turn to look as it opens slowly. Marion appears, a drawn, exhausted look in her eyes, but she smiles anyway. "Oh, Spencer, I thought I heard you. How are you, sweetheart?"

"I'm good, Mrs. Cavanaugh, how are you?" Spencer asks politely.

"I'm okay, thank you," She nods. "You two are home already?"

"Mom, it's almost six o'clock," Toby replies in concern. "School got out hours ago."

"It did? Oh, right, right," Marion shakes her head. "I guess I should get started on dinner. Will you be joining us, Spencer?"

"Sure, that would be great," She agrees. "Thank you."

Marion nods and closes the door again, heading downstairs. Toby frowns and he might be eleven, he might not know much about the human condition, but he knows his mother, and something isn't quite right. Spencer continues to finish her homework, talking endlessly about the different things that had happened that day and once again trying to convince him to come to Emily's birthday party, but Toby can't get his mother's fraught look out of his head. All throughout dinner, Marion doesn't speak a word. Daniel rants on about the problems he's been having at work and Spencer nods politely here and there, but Marion is silent and by extension, so is Toby. He watches her, just watches her, as she picks at her food but doesn't eat a bite, clears the table but never starts the dishwasher, and returns upstairs to her bedroom, where she's been hiding away for weeks and weeks.

After dinner, they're lying in the grass in his backyard when Toby admits, "I think there's something wrong with my mom."

"You do?" Spencer wonders. "Why? What makes you think that?"

"Didn't you notice how weird she was being during dinner?" He asks and Spencer hesitates.

"Well… I guess so," She says. "But I thought she was just tired or something."

"But she's been like that for a while now," Toby frowns. "And how can she be so tired if all she does is sleep?"

"I don't know," Spencer replies. "Maybe she should go see a doctor?"

"Maybe," Toby sighs. "I don't know if I could get her to go."

"Maybe your dad could," Spencer suggests and Toby scoffs.

"I don't think so," He negates. "They're barely even talking anymore. My dad's pretending everything's okay even though he knows it isn't. He still expects her to make dinner every night and do the laundry and everything and when she doesn't, he gets mad and yells at her."

Spencer frowns, unsure of what to say. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah," He agrees. "I'm sorry, too."

"She'll get better, though, Toby," Spencer insists. "Don't you think so?"

"I don't know," Toby tells her honestly. "I don't know what to think about this."

Truthfully, he doesn't.

* * *

At thirteen, everything is wrong with the world and her life and she just can't imagine a time when she was happy or when things weren't like they are now. She got a B- on her algebra test and it's like she started a war overseas; at least, that's how her parents are treating it. Veronica is shaking her head in disbelief. "I don't understand how this could happen. Did you not understand the material?"

"I understood it perfectly fine," Spencer crosses her arms over her chest. "I just wasn't having a good day."

"You weren't having a good day? Algebra is your strong point!" Veronica argues. "And math is your first class of the day; how could you already have a bad day at nine in the morning?"

"I went with Toby before school to visit his mom that day," Spencer admits and knows this is the wrong thing to say.

Veronica pauses and turns to look her daughter in the eye. "You went to Radley Sanitarium? Alone?"

"No," Spencer shoots back. "I just told you I was with Toby!"

"I don't want you going there," Veronica shakes her head and frustration builds within Spencer.

"Why? Why not?" She screams. "It's not like I hitchhiked to Philly and bought crack! I went to Radley!"

"You went to Radley?" Peter asks, entering the conversation from the den. "What were you doing there?"

"Visiting Marion Cavanaugh," Veronica shakes her head, irritated. "With Toby."

"It's his mom," Spencer counters. "He doesn't like going alone and his dad doesn't go anymore! He's my best friend; I wanted to be there for him!"

"That doesn't matter," Veronica says. "I don't want you going to Radley. End of discussion."

"Why?" She's desperate to know. "It's not like you can catch being crazy. It's not contagious! It's not like Toby's mom is insane, she's just a little depressed. And she's getting better, the doctors said, and-"

"Spencer, what is this?" Peter wonders, lifting the test with the scarlet letter upon it. "A B-? In algebra? That's one of your best subjects."

Spencer frowns. "I wasn't focused."

"If you need a tutor-"

"I don't need a tutor," She rolls her eyes. "For God's sake, I didn't fail!"

"Watch your tone," Veronica warns her. "I'm sick of this conversation. Go get ready for your riding lesson. I'll meet you back here in ten minutes."

Spencer bites her lip. "I don't have any more riding lessons."

"What are you talking about?"

"I kind of quit last week," Spencer says and this hadn't been the way she wanted to let them know, but it's out in the open, now.

"You _quit?_" Peter roars. "Why? Do you know how good that was going to look on your college applications?"

"You were the state champion!" Veronica shouts. "You were on your way to nationals!"

"That's all you people care about? Winning?" Spencer asks, enraged. "God, I'm sorry I'm not good enough for you, but there are more important things."

"I just don't understand," Peter shakes his head. "Melissa did everything the same way you were supposed to and _she_ got into all the Ivys. Every single one."

"I don't know why you can't be more like your sister," Veronica agrees. "She's setting a perfect example for the young lady you should want to be."

"Yes, Melissa's perfect," Spencer cries sarcastically. "That's all I _ever_ hear."

"Don't be like that," Peter warns her. "You're acting incredibly immature."

"Good! I don't want to be mature! I'm thirteen!" Spencer yells. "I don't want to think about college! I'm not even in high school yet!"

She turns on her heel, heading for the front door as her father shouts, "Where are you going?"

"Out!" She offers him. "Away from here."

She's already halfway to Toby's when he calls her, her cell phone buzzing in her pocket. "Hello?"

"… _Spencer?_"

She stops dead in her tracks. His voice is low and hollow and utterly unnatural. "Are you okay?"

"_Will you come over? Please?_"

"I'm on my way," She says and hangs up, quickening her steps.

His house is dark when she arrives and he doesn't answer the door, but it's unlocked, so she pushes it open herself and steps inside. There's an utter silence that almost frightens her and she calls out, "Toby?"

"In here."

His voice is coming from the living room and when she finds him, his eyes are red and raw and he's crying. She goes to him instantly and asks, "What happened?"

"Spencer," He says and his voice breaks over her name. "My mom… My mom's dead."

Her eyes widen and he lets out a sob, his entire body shaking as she wraps her arms around him. There are no words she could possibly say to make this better and she has so, so many questions that she refuses to ask in an effort to save him the pain of having to address them. She can honestly say she hadn't been expecting this and she doesn't know what to do; how can she be of comfort, now, when he'd lost so much? She knows he'd never felt close to his father, but his mother had not only understood who he was as a person, but had also loved and accepted him for it. To lose that love, that kind of unconditional acceptance, is to lose his inner peace and Spencer isn't sure how to help him find it. And so, she holds him as he cries and tries to assure him she's always there.

The funeral's a week later and Spencer holds Toby's hand throughout the entire ceremony. Everyone is weeping and offering Toby their condolences and Spencer can see the uncertainty in their eyes, as if they think he's as weak as a sodden sheet of paper and are unsure of how he'll make it through, now. Spencer knows he will; he _has_ to. If he doesn't, she surely has no chance. Daniel is stone-faced and Spencer has never been able to read him, least of all now, but he does accept her sympathies and thanks her for being there for Toby, through tight lips, as though it pains him to say so. Months go by and he begins to heal and right around Christmastime, they're window-shopping in town when Toby sighs and drops the news.

"My dad's getting remarried."

Spencer's eyes are wide. "_What?_ Already? But your mom-"

She shuts her mouth immediately when a look of pain flashes in his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Toby."

"It's okay. She's nice enough. Or at least, she tries to be," Toby says, shrugging. "She has a daughter that's our age. Her name's Jenna."

"So you're not just getting a step-mom," Spencer says. "You're getting a _family_."

"I guess."

"When?"

"Next weekend," Toby says. "We're going to a ski resort in the Poconos for New Year's."

Spencer frowns. "But now _we_ can't celebrate New Year's."

"I know," He sighs. "I'm sorry. I'd rather be here."

"I know you would," Spencer nods. "But maybe this will be a good thing? Maybe… I don't know. Your dad will talk to you more and… You guys will help each other get through this."

Toby looks skeptical and it's how Spencer feels, too. She isn't usually the one to provide the optimism and it feels out of place. Still, he says, "Thanks. You're my best friend, Spence."

She smiles. "And you're mine."

* * *

The first time it happens, he thinks it's a mistake. She didn't mean to touch him there; tight quarters in the hallway and she had to squeeze by him to get past. She _is_ from another state and maybe they had different customs, there. Maybe it's okay to be handsy, there, but it isn't here and he could correct her. The second time, he stares at her after, long and hard, and she gives him a saucy grin before donning an angelic, holier than thou look, that almost makes him wonder if he imagined it. But the third time, he knows for sure. This isn't a mistake, this isn't a dream; this is really happening. He talks to her about how it makes him uncomfortable, about how he's going to tell their parents, and that's when the devil appears within her. She warns him not to, that he won't like it if he does, that she has the power to make his life a living hell, and he does nothing, because he knows she's right.

The phone rings twice before he hears it click on the other end. "_Hello?_"

"Spence," Toby pleads. "Can I come over? Please?"

"_Uh, yeah, sure. Come around back; my parents are home_."

He does as he's asked, slipping out of his home before Jenna can notice he was ever there in the first place. He's sixteen; he isn't stupid. He knows what she's capable of and he knows what she's trying to do. When he arrives at Spencer's, she sneaks downstairs, lets him in quietly and sneaks him back upstairs, and he knows it's because the Hastings' have a strict "no boys in my teenage daughter's bedroom" policy. He finds it mildly ridiculous; they've been friends since they were both still in diapers and he's been in her bedroom plenty of times, but ever since she'd entered high school, they seemed to realize that he was in fact a male and had banned him from the upper level of their home. Tonight, he assumes Veronica and Peter are much too involved with each other to care, however; he can hear screaming and ranting and raving the entire journey to her bedroom and she shuts the door behind them in an effort to drown it out, but it only muffles their voices slightly.

Instead, she turns on her iPod when she notices he's staring and asks, "You okay? What's wrong?"

"Are your parents okay?" He wonders and she shrugs.

"They've been doing this all night," She shakes her head. "Never open the can of worms labeled Jason, that's for sure."

"I'm sorry," He says and she waves it off.

"It's fine," Spencer insists. "Seriously. They're always okay, after."

Toby sighs and this prompts her to prod again, "What's wrong?"

"I think…" He trails off but one look into her cinnamon-colored eyes prompts the rest of the sentence to fall from his mouth. "I think my step-sister wants to have sex with me."

"What?" Spencer exclaims in shock. "Are you kidding me?"

"No, I wish I was," Toby says desperately. "She keeps touching me and making eyes at me and… It really makes me uncomfortable."

Spencer's face is unreadable. "What the hell? Tell your parents!"

"I told her that's what I was going to do," He says. "But she said… She said if I did, she'd make my life a living hell. She said she'd tell them _I_ was the one coming on to _her_."

Spencer asks, "And you think they'd believe her?"

"No," Toby replies. "I know they would."

"That's sick," Spencer shakes her head. "I'm so sorry."

"She doesn't do it when they're home," Toby tells her. "Only when they're gone. But that's almost all the time."

"Okay, well if you can find out ahead of time when they're not going to be home, come here," Spencer tells him. "You can stay here until they come back."

"It's a catch-22," Toby sighs. "I hate being there when my parents are home, because they just ignore me, you know? They pretend I don't even exist. But when they're not there… Jenna's all over me. I hate it."

The crash of a dish breaking resonates from downstairs and it makes Toby flinch, but Spencer doesn't even bat an eye. "I know what you mean."

"No one talks to me at school because Alison has the whole school thinking I pluck the heads off squirrels," He then states, leaning back against her pillows as she does the same. "It just… It sucks."

"I know," Spencer says. "But Alison's a bitch; I've told her that a hundred times. And you've still got me, Toby. As long as you've got me, you're never going to be alone."

Toby looks at her, _really_ looks at her, and he sees her at every stage. The pre-school kid he'd finger painted with, back when they were teeny tiny. The six-year-old who'd dared him to kiss her and ran when he tried. The seven-year-old who dressed as the Jessie to his Buzz Lightyear the year they went as _Toy Story_ characters for Halloween. The ten-year-old who'd stayed home with him while everyone else went on a summer camp trip to the waterpark, just because his mom had forgotten to sign his permission slip. The thirteen-year-old who'd held his hand during the worst day of his life and had done everything in her power to be there for him as he tried to move on. And now, the beautiful woman she had become; compassionate, determined and fiercely loyal, always to him before anyone else. He looks at her, truly sees her, and then, out of the blue, decides to kiss her.

It takes her by surprise at first, but she responds in earnest not seconds later and he thinks, in irony, that this is probably what her parents had been trying to prevent. When they're through, she smiles and says, "What was that for?"

"I was making good on that dare," Toby tells her and Spencer giggles. "You ran away, last time."

"I was six," She defends herself. "And if I recall correctly, _you_ thought it would be gross to kiss me."

"Did I say that?" He wonders. "I don't remember saying that."

"You said that."

"Am I saying that now?"

"Are you?"

"No," Toby shakes his head, leaning in to kiss her again. "Definitely not."


	19. we're dead if they knew

**Hi friends! Here we are with the penultimate chapter! Thank you for your reviews on the last one. I'm glad you enjoyed it and I hope you enjoy this one as well. So anyone who knows me knows I love classic literature (I mean, I wasn't an English major for nothing, am I right?) so today's AU was super enjoyable to write. I hope you like it.  
**

**The chapter title comes from "Love Story" by Taylor Swift and the AU we find ourselves in today is having a forbidden relationship. Hamlet's my favorite, always has been, always will be. But I will always have a soft spot for Romeo and Juliet, because it's just so damn entertaining. Please let me know what you think? Oh, despite how the play ends, no one dies in this chapter. I keep my promises, don't I? :P**

* * *

we keep quiet 'cause we're dead if they knew

_From ancient grudge break to new mutiny  
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean_

Before he was taught to read or tie his shoes, before he was potty-trained, before he was taught to walk or even to talk, Toby Cavanaugh was taught to hate the Hastings'. It was just one of those things, a give-in for his family, that anything the Hastings' did was terrible and wrong and anything awful that happened in turn to him or the rest of his family was no doubt caused by something the Hastings' had done. Toby remembers being very young and making the mistake of asking his father why he hated them so much and the look of infuriated rage in his father's eyes was enough to scare him into never asking again. His mother had done her best to calm his father's insatiable anger and had done what she could to explain the predicament to Toby to the best of her ability, but Daniel had only laughed bitterly and growled to his son that the Hastings' were pure evil and he should never make acquaintances with them.

It went like this: Peter Hastings and Daniel Cavanaugh had both attended law school at the University of Pennsylvania and had graduated at the very top of their class and with many, many employment offers upon the end of their schooling. Every law firm in the state of Pennsylvania wanted the two of them and instead of igniting friendship between the men, this fueled competition and aggression. Daniel went on to accept a position just a step below the district attorney, for he was next in line, fighting the man with the prosecution. Craving the rivalry, Peter became a defense attorney for the opposing law firm and over and over, they were pitted against one another. Neck and neck and at each other's throats at every moment of the day, Daniel and Peter married, had families, and passed on their hatred of the other to anyone who dared make their acquaintance. It went hand in hand; if you were friends with Peter Hastings, you were no friend of Daniel Cavanaugh and vice versa.

And that's how it is. Toby's not a hateful person by nature, but the Hastings' are out for blood and if he remains inactive, they'll take him as prey. It seems the entirety of Rosewood High School has chosen sides and carries out the grudge as though it's second nature; if you attend school here, you are either a Hastings or a Cavanaugh and there is no in between. Even the teachers know better; they would never assign group projects to those from different sides for fear a blood bath would ensue. Toby goes along with it; he has no choice but to. But he isn't as spiteful as his peers, his father and stepmother, or even his stepsister, who is so new to the whole situation, but has assumed her new role like a second skin. Toby, instead, goes through all the motions of daily life and yearns for the day when he can leave Rosewood and all the hatred behind.

Today, he's in the hallway, making his way to his locker in between periods. It's a sea of hormonal teenagers, jabbering away about classes they hate, teachers that fail them, and, of course, the endless war between the Hastings' and the Cavanaughs. Half of the people in this hallway are looking at Toby like they'd easily throw down for him in a fight and the other half are the ones that would most likely instigate it in the first place. He's not paying any of them any attention at all; in fact, he's trying to remember how to solve oxidation-reduction equations for his chemistry quiz in ten minutes. He hates chemistry and he isn't good at it, either; it's not a very good combination. As he's struggling to get his locker open, Caleb and Emily, his two very best friends, turn the corner and appear at his side moments later.

"Do you remember how to write the structural formulas?" Emily asks him in a panic. "From the unit on organic chemistry?"

"I tried to block that out," Toby tells her. "Why?"

"Rumor has it that it's going to be on the quiz," She frets. "There's carbon and OH and…"

"We're screwed, basically," Caleb shakes his head. "We're _so_ screwed."

"We are not," Toby disagrees. "No, wait. Emily and I are. You ace everything, remember?"

"You're a regular old Hastings," Emily teases and Caleb frowns.

"Take that back."

"Oh shit," A voice from behind them mutters. "Look what the cat dragged in."

Mona's coming down the hallway and Toby visibly tenses, his eyes darkening. She's a Hastings; a ruthless one at that, and behind her, he can see Aria, Spencer and Hanna. Noel Kahn and Andrew Campbell are trailing behind them and Toby sighs in irritation; they have arrived. It's almost as if this is the fight scene from _West Side Story_; moments after, Paige McCullers appears behind Emily and Caleb, and suddenly Jenna's there too. Hail, hail, the gang's all here. Mona shoots Toby a wicked grin and asks, "Having trouble getting your locker open, Cavanaugh?"

"I'm good, thanks," Toby shakes his head.

Caleb speaks up, "Do you always travel in a pack? Scared we'll tear you apart if you travel alone?"

"I could ask the same of you," Mona nods towards the posse behind Toby. "Looks like we're ready for a rumble."

"Name the time and the place," Jenna shouts back. "You Hastings' could use someone to knock some sense into you."

"Fuck off, Marshall," Noel calls, shaking his head. "You're all bark, no bite."

"And _you're_ so tough?" Jenna chuckles. "All those football practices you spent on the bench couldn't have trained you enough."

Noel's eyes flash and he steps forward just as Andrew holds him back. "Don't touch her, man. You might get herpes."

"How could she have gotten that?" Paige wonders. "None of us would touch one of you with a ten-foot pole."

Before the other side can offer a response, Toby finally manages to get his locker open and regrets it the moment he does. The entire compartment is filled with shampoo, moisturizer and shaving cream, making a sticky, gooey paste and completely ruining all his belongings. The Hastings' erupt in laughter, with Noel shouting, "Hope Jacobs likes the essence we added to your English paper. Or, should we say, _Herbal Essence?_"

"Nice one, man!" Andrew says, sending him a high five.

Emily's eyes are red with rage. "You're going to _pay_ for that!"

Caleb agrees, "You better watch your _fucking_ backs!"

"Ooh, I'm shaking in my Prada boots!" Hanna feigns expertly. "What are you going to do? Re-program us?"

"We know that's all you're good for," Aria teases back. "Just a hacker who's going nowhere in life."

"_You'll_ be going nowhere if you don't get the _fuck_ out of our faces," Paige argues back.

"That's a bit of a contradiction, don't you think? You want us to go, but if we don't, we're going nowhere?" Spencer snorts. "Come on, guys. Let's leave them to their empty threats and hot air."

Jenna calls to their retreating backs, "_Fuck you guys!_"

"Back at you, darling!" Noel drawls patronizingly and Jenna is fuming.

Paige is shaking her head. "The Hastings' are _trash_."

"Yeah," Toby agrees after a beat. "They really are."

* * *

Friday nights are reserved for parties at her lake house and though most people would think this is just a way to blow off steam, for Spencer, it's a way to make up for lost time. The lake house is a place for her to just be whom she is instead of whom this grudge has made her and it's always over far too soon for her liking. She drives up the second school lets out and begins to set up with Aria and Hanna by her side, the three girls working in absolute silence as they queue music and fill bowls with snacks and dim the lights for the intimate setting. Spencer's buzzing with anticipation, now, and when she hears the gravel turn up outside the cabin and footsteps on the soft ground, her heart begins to pound even further. There's a knock on the door and Spencer is answering before they can even knock twice.

It's Emily and she smiles upon sight of Spencer, saying, "Hi. Sorry we're a little late; traffic was _killer_."

Spencer nods, allows her entry, grins at Caleb when he follows and then her heart's in her throat when her eyes meet _his_. Toby Cavanaugh, her sworn enemy from birth and the love of her life, is standing before her and there's a distracted look in his eyes that disappears the moment she's the only thing he sees. "Hey Spence."

She throws herself into his arms and he stumbles a bit from the unexpected force of her body, but he's holding her just as tightly. She can't say it, so he does. "I missed you, too."

"I'm so sorry," She's shaking her head moments later, pulling back. "Your locker and your paper… If I had known that's what they were going to do-"

"Spencer," He stops her, bracing her arms. "It's okay. Par for the course, right?"

"No, but…" Spencer disagrees. "They had no right to do that."

"It's nothing compared to what Jenna did to your car," Toby seethes. "I could've killed her."

Spencer remembers; a severed brake line that had terrified her, her parents and her loving boyfriend. "I guess we should be used to this stuff by now?"

"These are our lives, Spence," He sighs. "It's what we have to live with."

It had happened about two years ago; Spencer had been kicked out of her French class and sent to the principal's office for getting into a brutal verbal argument with someone on the Cavanaughs' side. Instead of going to the principal's, who was Team Hastings, anyway, Spencer found the door at the end of the hallway and stepped outside to blow off steam in the courtyard behind the school. She'd been angry, mind-numbingly angry, and no one ever went out there, anyway; some pot-smokers here and there, but mostly, the courtyard was abandoned. She stepped outside and immediately knew she wasn't alone. At the far end of the wall, Toby was sitting on the ground, his knees up to his chest, his elbows propped against them and his face hidden; in moments, she became aware that he was crying. Everything in her told her to walk away and if her father had been there, or her mother, or her sister, they all would have poked fun at him, been glad that he was upset, thrown salt into his wounds even further, but Spencer didn't. For the first time in her life, she realized that the Cavanaughs were people, too, not just beings that her father told her to irrationally hate. And so instead of adding to his misery, Spencer sat down beside him and waited for him to notice her.

He did almost instantly and asked defensively what she wanted; she assumed _he_ assumed from a lifetime of being picked on and loathed by her family and friends that she was there to instigate more damage. But somehow, he believed her when she told him she wasn't and from there, through a painful agony, he admitted to her that his mother had just passed away. Spencer knew she'd been sick for a while with an illness unknown to her, but the debilitating grief that Toby was experiencing was almost too much for her to handle. She sat with him for the rest of the day and neither of them went back to class and when she got home and inevitably got in trouble for skipping school, Spencer played the part and blamed it on the Cavanaughs. But for the next couple of months, she and Toby met in private, became friends, shared stories and complained about their overbearing, ridiculous families. And soon, it became obvious that there was something there, something below the surface and begging to be recognized. They've been together ever since.

Not many people know about their secret relationship; the last thing they need is for it to get out and somehow reach their parents, which would of course result in their excommunication. Thus, every Friday night Spencer throws a little mini-party for those who are kept apart by the Hastings-Cavanaugh war. It's the only time Spencer and Toby are allowed to actually be the couple they want to be and to say they relish in it would be an understatement. Over her shoulder, Spencer can see a few more people beginning to arrive and hugging in reunification. Caleb and Hanna are kissing and Aria and Emily are laughing about something so trivial, it brings a smile to Spencer's face. She tugs on Toby's hand and they find themselves exiting through the back door and coming to the edge of the dock. They sit, hands still entwined and feet dangling in the water, as the sun begins to set and the moon awakens for its nocturnal activity.

"Toby?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think this will ever be over?"

She watches the water shimmer blue like his eyes as he contemplates a response and then sighs and she knows she isn't going to like the answer. "I like to think I'm optimistic, but when it comes to our parents… No. I really don't."

She says, "You are the most hopeful person I know."

"I know," Toby nods. "But there's something about them… The tension just runs _so_ deep, you know? They've hated each other for so long that I just think… There's no use. My Dad thinks your Dad is a traitor and an asshole."

"And he is," Spencer agrees. "And my Dad thinks _your_ Dad is a piece of shit."

"Which he is," Toby replies. "They're both right about the other one. You'd think they might bond over that."

Spencer laughs. "I don't think that'll happen."

There isn't much to say; she truly doesn't know what's in their future. After all, Romeo and Juliet had both died long before they saw their parents' truce and Tony and Maria… Well. They hadn't had a happy ending, either. Spencer's smile begins to fade and when she glances at Toby, he's gazing right at her. "What?"

"Nothing," He insists. "I just like looking at you. I could never grow tired of it. You're positively beautiful, Spencer Hastings."

Her insides are warm and her heart's about to burst and her smile's a mile wide. Daniel Cavanaugh couldn't be that bad, she thinks. Not if he's made someone as incredible as Toby. "I think I'm in love with you."

Toby's eyes widen, but it doesn't stop the smile from spreading across his face. "You think?"

"Well, I don't know for sure," She shrugs. "I've never been in love before. What's it feel like?"

"_I've_ never been in love before, either," Toby tells her. "How do you feel?"

"I feel like… Like I'm flying," Spencer says. "Like when I'm with you, nothing could ever possibly go wrong. My heart feels full and I can't stop smiling and it feels like this is where I'm supposed to be. You're whom I'm meant to be with and I only feel like this when I'm with you. I feel… _magnificent_."

"You're always magnificent," Toby tells her. "Not just when you're with me."

"But I don't feel this happy, this _alive_, when I'm alone," She says. "So it's love. It _has_ to be love. I'm in love with you, Toby Cavanaugh, and I don't care who knows it."

He grins but at the end of her words, it falters just a bit. "Well that part's not quite true, is it?"

"No. I guess not," She sighs. "But I mean the first part with every last inch of my heart."

"I love you, too," Toby replies without hesitation. "I love you more than anything. And this sucks; this whole thing _sucks_. But we graduate in eight months. And then we're gone."

Spencer's hanging on to his every word. "Where will we go?"

"Anywhere, my fair Juliet," Toby says and Spencer giggles just a bit. "Anywhere away from here."

* * *

A week before Halloween, Caleb brings word to him that Hanna's throwing a costume party and it was just going to be for those in the know, but word got out and now they're no longer invited. At first, Toby doesn't really mind; he isn't a party person anyway and he knows that Spencer will have fun with her friends and will tell him all about it as soon as she can. But then, the moment the rest of the Cavanaughs find out that the Hastings' are throwing a party, it becomes a way for them to get back at them for the locker incident. Jenna and Paige are already planning on crashing the party, destroying Spencer's lake house and fighting off the Hastings' with every inch of fight they have left, and no matter how much Toby tries to dissuade them, the plan is a go. It's on.

"I have to get them to stop," Toby mutters quietly over lunch the next day. "I can't let them do that to Spencer or her house. God, her parents will kill her."

"We'll figure something out," Emily assures him. "Jenna's on a war path, but I might be able to talk some sense into Paige."

"Yes, do that," Caleb nods. "She's in love with you; she'll listen."

"I'll see what I can do about Jenna," Toby says, apprehension already beginning to creep into his veins. He and Jenna do not see eye to eye and he _loathes_ talking to her, but for Spencer, he'll do it twice.

"I've already warned Hanna," Caleb says. "I told her to scale it back a bit and to be prepared, but she invited fucking Alison DiLaurentis, so I don't think that's going to happen."

"From what she told me," Emily whispers. "Alison invited herself."

"That's what Alison does," Toby rolls his eyes. "Alison does what Alison wants."

"Whisper, whisper, whisper," Jenna says, setting her tray down next to Toby's and taking a seat. "Are we talking strategy? How are going to take those Hastings' bitches down?"

"It's too bad we didn't wait a couple weeks for the big fight," Paige laments, sitting next to Emily. "Melissa will be home for Thanksgiving and then we can get two bitches with one stone."

"I've been meaning to talk to you guys about this," Toby says, taking a stand. "We're not going to attack them on Halloween."

"But it's the perfect opportunity," Paige says. "When else will they all be under one roof?"

"If not on Halloween, then when?" Jenna asks, impatient. "Because they're asking for it, all of them."

"Maybe you misunderstood me," Toby says. "We're not attacking them _ever_."

Paige gasps and exclaims, "_What?_"

Jenna's face hardens and she asks, "Can I talk to you for a minute? Alone?"

He stands and follows her as she drags him towards the registers at the front of the cafeteria. "What the hell is the matter with you?"

"I'm not going to argue this with you, Jenna," Toby tells her. "We're not fighting the Hastings'. We're better than they are."

"So you're going to let them get away with it? That stunt they pulled on you?" Jenna asks. "Have you lost your mind?"

"No, I'm the only one who still has one," Toby fights her. "Look, this whole thing is stupid and it's between my Dad and Peter, so why do we have to be involved?"

"Don't mention that asshole's name," Jenna hisses. "You're his own flesh and blood and you should be more supportive of him. The Hastings' are a bunch of backstabbing, life-ruining, goody two-shoes that should be put in their place. All of them. Peter, Veronica, Melissa, Spencer and all their fucking friends."

"You didn't even know who they were six months ago!" Toby shouts. "Your Mom marries my Dad and all of a sudden you're leading us into battle? You're calling the shots?"

Jenna shakes her head. "I can't believe you wouldn't want to see their heads on silver platters, especially after what they did to your Mom."

Toby draws back a bit; she's crossed the line. "Don't. I'm serious. _Don't._"

But she does. "Your mother is dead because of them. Why wouldn't you want them to pay for that?"

Toby's blood is boiling, but he can't find words to argue back. Jenna shakes her head. "We're getting them on Halloween. Be there or don't, but you're not going to tell us what we can and can't do."

She turns and heads back towards their lunch table, leaving Toby fuming in the dust. And of course, it's only made worse seconds later; out of the corner of his eye, he can see Spencer, contemplating a sandwich or a salad, and Andrew Campbell, trying his hardest to hold her attention. "I'm just saying, Spence, you should consider it. We'd have a great time."

"Thank you, but I think I'm just going to go stag, like I always do," She refuses politely. "We can still hang out. I mean, we'll both be there. I'll even save you a dance."

"How kind," Andrew deadpans. "What are you so afraid of?"

Spencer stops, her eyes lifting. "What?"

"This is like the fifth time you've rejected me," Andrew says. "The few times we have hung out have only been when we're studying. There has to be something you're scared of."

"I'm…" She shakes her head. "I'm not scared."

"Then what is it?" Andrew wonders. "It's not like you have a boyfriend."

_That you know of_, Toby thinks, his fists clenching. No, he isn't the jealous type and yes, he trusts Spencer with everything he has, but he is _not_ in the mood for this. Not today. Spencer clutches her lunch tray even harder and says, "I'm just not ready. I like you, Andrew, just… Not in that way."

Toby hadn't even noticed how close he'd gotten to them until Andrew glances over and does a double take, his visage darkening. "What the fuck do you want, Cavanaugh?"

He stares at Andrew a moment before his gaze slides towards Spencer. "I just wanted to tell you guys to enjoy your party. I'm sure it'll be a real scream."

He turns and heads out of the cafeteria as Andrew snorts, "What a fucking weirdo."

Following the hallways blindly, Toby finds the back of the school and exits into the courtyard, pleased to find it empty as he sinks against the wall. It doesn't take long for Spencer to appear, pushing the door open and sitting beside him. Her hand is cool on his back as she asks, "Are you okay, Toby?"

"No, not really," Toby admits. "I'm living in a twenty-first century Shakespeare play, I have a war-hungry stepsister and a decathlon champion trying to date my girlfriend."

Spencer frowns and says, "He's not the champion. I beat him _twice_."

Toby looks at her pointedly and she assures him, "And he's harmless. I promise."

"Don't have the party at your lake house," Toby warns her. "Whatever you do, don't do that."

"Why?" Spencer asks. "Hanna told me that Caleb said-"

"We're coming for you," Toby states. "I don't know what Jenna has planned, but it's not going to be pretty and I don't want you caught in the middle of that."

Spencer nods. "And you can't stop her?"

"I've tried," He frowns. "There's no stopping her. She's on a mission. She's out for blood; _your_ blood."

Spencer's quiet a moment before saying, "We'll have the party somewhere else. Somewhere public."

Toby heaves a sigh and says, "I'm getting so tired of this."

"So tired of what?"

"Of this. The lying, the secrecy, the hatred," Toby lists. "It's been two years of this bullshit and I'm done."

Spencer nods and slips her hand into his. "I know."

"I just want to be able to hold your hand," He says simply. "Walk you to class. Kiss you without anyone judging us or scorning us. I want them to know how crazy I am about you and how our parents' are _so fucking stupid_ for letting this come between us. I'm sick of it, Spence. I'm really, really tired of it."

"You think I'm not?" Spencer wonders. "How many times have I had to catch myself before I said something that gave us away? How many times have I watched my so-called friends torture you or destroy something of yours or say something _so fucking awful_ and I haven't been able to say anything to defend you? How many times have I just wanted to say, 'Fuck it!' and go up to you and kiss you in front of everyone? More times than I can count, Toby. More times than I can admit."

Toby takes all her words in and somehow, doesn't feel as angry as he was before. She continues, "You and I are going to do this, though, because you said we could. You promised me. And we're stronger than they are, Toby. We always have been."

He kisses her, then, and their world is set right again.

* * *

Alison DiLaurentis had never taken a side in the Hastings-Cavanaugh war; she prefers to play the field. When it's convenient for her, she's right there with Spencer and the gang, spewing venom and fighting against the Cavanaughs and when she grows tired of that, she flips her axis and begins to side with the Cavanaughs. She's a drifter, a floater, and it irritates many people, but it's how she keeps things interesting. There's nothing on either side that could keep her forever; she hates Jenna Marshall with a _burning_ passion and today, she's watching Andrew Campbell strike out once again with Spencer Hastings and it's painful, really. Spencer could do so much better than him and it's as if she knows that; there has to be some explanation for why she continually turns him down. Alison watches as Andrew heads towards the Hastings' table and Spencer turns and exits the cafeteria, and, because she has nothing better to do, Alison follows.

Spencer is wandering down one of the back hallways of the school; or, at least Alison thinks she's wandering, at first. It seems moments later that she's actually walking with a purpose, as if she has a destination in mind, and when she finds a heavy exit door a bit later, she pushes it open and steps outside. Alison doesn't quite understand; there's nothing outside but an empty courtyard where the druggies go to smoke between periods. Maybe the Hastings' golden child isn't so golden after all. There's a small window at the top of the wall, right above the doorframe, and Alison has to use her textbooks as a stepping stool so she can be tall enough to reach. When she does, her eyes widen in shock, for there, against the back wall of the school, is golden child Spencer Hastings, her lips fused with those of Toby Cavanaugh, her sworn enemy. Alison watches a moment before stepping down and her look of utter shock turns into one of wicked, evil proportions.

"So you thought you'd keep a secret and not tell me, huh?" Alison mutters to herself, yanking her cell phone out. "We'll see how well that goes for you."

* * *

At the end of the week, Spencer finally convinces Hanna to have the Halloween party elsewhere, but this doesn't stop them from having their weekly get together that Friday night. Hanna complains for a straight hour about how her house isn't as great of a location for a party and that her mother will be hovering and asking a million questions, but Spencer repeats over and over that it's for their own protection. She doesn't want to think about Halloween, right now; that's a whole week away. Right now, she wants a bit of alcohol and her boyfriend's loving, comforting arms. She pulls Toby into the middle of the floor, loops her arms around him and just holds onto him for a while, her breathing already even and calm the moment he holds her just as close. They sway a bit to the music, not really dancing but not really standing still, and it's just them, this moment right here, and it's all that matters, now.

"Think about all the things we're going to get to do when this is over," Toby whispers a moment later, his voice low and warm in her ear. "All those things you said a few days ago. We'll be able to do them in the open and no one will question us because I'm a Cavanaugh and you're a Hastings. No one will care."

Spencer smiles complacently. "It's going to be great. We'll never have to pretend we hate each other ever again."

"We can shout our love from the rooftops, if we want," Toby says. "Broadcast it on live television."

"Paint billboards," Spencer grins. "Make t-shirts."

"Or we can keep it to ourselves," Toby smirks. "Because all of those things seem really obnoxious."

"I'm okay with that," Spencer laughs. "As long as I get to love you and not be crucified for it."

Toby bends to kiss her then and Spencer takes a moment just to relish in it, because the lake house and the handful of friends around them are the only ones who have never batted an eyelash at them. Spencer hopes with everything in her that someday, that population would grow just a bit larger. She just hadn't anticipated that day being today. When their lips part, Spencer realizes the music's been cut off, the lights have been turned on and everyone around her is staring in suspended shock. They all seem to be looking at one central focal point and when Spencer turns in that direction, her heart does a somersault. There in the front doorway is Alison DiLaurentis and on either side of her are Melissa and Jenna, both of whom are positively _furious_.

"So," Melissa seethes. "You had a party and didn't invite us, huh?"

Spencer's arms slowly slip from around Toby's neck, but she still comes to grasp one of his hands in hers. "How did… How did you know we were here?"

"Alison called me a few days ago," Melissa replies and Spencer can tell she's fighting to keep her voice even. "She said that there was an emergency, that you were involved, and that I had to come home immediately. She proceeded to inform me that you and… _him_ were something of an item and asked where you might be meeting. Where else would you be, Spencer? We haven't come up here since we were both children."

"She said I could come along," Jenna put in. "Considering it was my business, too."

"Don't you know, Spencer?" Alison grins. "I'm the crazy bitch around here. _I_ keep the secrets; I _make_ the secrets. Not you."

Spencer stares a moment and then erupts. "What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?"

"Her? What the fuck is wrong with _you_?" Melissa shouts. "Why would you do this to us?"

"It's my fucking life!"

"Spencer, he is a _Cavanaugh_," Melissa states as if the mere name will make her gag.

"I don't give a shit if he's a fucking Montague," Spencer replies. "You have no business telling me how I can and cannot live my life!"

"You betrayed us!" Melissa screams. "Just stop for one _fucking second_ and think about Dad and Mom and our family and what they mean-"

"Enough!" Jenna shouts. "Seriously, shut the _fuck_ up."

Melissa whirls around and faces her, hot with anger. "You don't get to say when enough is enough, Jenna. You're not involved."

"Oh, I'm not? This isn't about your shattered ego, _Melissa_," Jenna growls. "My fucking brother is the one that your bitch of a sister is dating, isn't he?"

"Stepbrother," Toby corrects. "And I swear to God, if you talk about Spencer like that again, I will _kill_ you."

"You will not," Jenna rolls her eyes. "You won't be able to kill anyone after your father murders you for doing this to us."

"We're going home," Melissa orders. "We're going home _right now_ and you're going to explain yourself to Mom and Dad. I don't know how the fuck you think you can fix this, but you're going to have to try."

Spencer stares at her sister, wild and angry, before taking a deep breath and saying, "Fine. Let's go."

The room is silent. Everyone's staring, waiting to be hit by the shrapnel when another explosion takes place, but nothing else comes. As a last ditch effort, Spencer shoots Toby a look and he's looking right back with so much love, it nearly stops her heart. She promises, "I'll call you later."

"No you _fucking_ won't!" Melissa replies and addresses Toby, snarling, "She _won't_. Don't be expecting it."

Spencer ignores her sister. "I will."

He nods and watches her go and Spencer feels as though she's marching to the beat of her own execution drum.

Melissa drives forward, speeding through lights and taking sharp turns that throw Spencer against the car door. She remains silent and headstrong. As a child, Spencer had never been the one to obsess over princesses and fairytales and happily ever after. She'd been realistic from the very beginning and had known that these tales were just that- stories. And yet, here she is, in an outrageous smack of cosmic irony, stuck in the most infamous love story of them all- Romeo and Juliet. There's a scene towards the end of the play, right after Tybalt is slain, where Juliet is in a confused state of mourning; she's just lost her cousin, however, she spent the night with her lover. She tells the Friar she would rather die than marry Paris, that she has become desperate in the face of the ultimate decision. She chooses to be weak, to run away, instead of tell her family about their affair, and this fateful transgression is what inevitably leads to Romeo's downfall and suicide instead of their happy ending.

Spencer is not Juliet Capulet. She will fight until her last breath for Toby and their love.

Peter and Melissa are waiting for them in the living room and Spencer anticipates that Melissa's already let them know something's up. She inhales a deep breath, but it's Melissa who speaks first. "You'll never guess where I found your daughter."

"Melissa, go upstairs," Veronica says instead and the look of bewilderment on her face is enough to lift Spencer's spirits just a little.

"What? Why?" She balks immediately. "I'm the one who-"

"Upstairs," Veronica hisses and Melissa glares at her sister.

"You've really fucked up this time," She growls before heading for her room.

When they hear a door shut upstairs, Peter asks, "Is there something you need to tell me?"

Spencer again inhales and exhales and tries to ignore her furiously beating heart. "I'm dating Toby Cavanaugh."

There's absolute silence in the room and Spencer can hear her unsteady breathing, her irregular heartbeat, and the anger in her parents' temperaments. Veronica asks, "Toby Cavanaugh? Daniel Cavanaugh's son?"

Spencer nods slowly. "Yes."

Her mother needs to know, "How long?"

"Almost two years," Spencer replies and this is it. This is the tipping point.

"_Two fucking years?_" Peter explodes. "You've been lying to us for two years? You've been dating that… that _boy_ for _two years?!_"

"That boy has a name," Spencer frowns and Peter laughs bitterly.

"Oh I _know_ his name," He hisses. "Daniel Cavanaugh's son, Spencer? _Jesus!_"

"Who cares who he is?" Spencer asks and this is clearly the wrong thing to say.

"Who cares? _Who cares?_" Peter roars. "He's _Daniel Cavanaugh_, Spencer! My daughter and his son? Don't you understand? Haven't you listened to a single word I've been saying all these years?"

"All the words you've said have been stupid," Spencer tells him. "I don't give a _fuck_ who he is and you shouldn't either! You're acting like a child! All of you are!"

"How _dare_ you take that tone with me!" Peter shouts back. "You do _not_ talk to me that way, you got it? I am your _father_. You are _supposed_ to respect me!"

Spencer shakes her head, trying desperately to keep her rage in check. "Maybe when you earn it, I will."

"Spencer," Veronica shrieks, cutting off her husband's nasty retort. "Go to your room."

"With pleasure," She huffs and races upstairs, leaving her livid parents behind.

* * *

"Jenna says you and I need to have a conversation," Daniel addresses his son, taking a seat on the couch beside him. "What's going on?"

Toby folds and unfolds his hands together, swallowing past the lump in his throat. He isn't as good at confrontation as Spencer is and he wishes more than anything she were here with him. "Yeah. We do."

Daniel waits expectantly. "So…?"

He inhales a deep breath, but there's nothing but poison between them. "Spencer Hastings-"

Daniel physically tenses and grimaces at the name. "What about her?"

"She's my girlfriend," Toby says, ripping off the Band-Aid. "We've been dating for almost two years."

He's shaking and he doesn't realize it until that very moment. He can see the confession take effect on his father's face, but Daniel doesn't yell or curse him out. He's a master at stony silence, at implied disappointment and regret, and Toby already feels like a failure. "If this is a joke, it isn't funny. You know how little Peter Hastings' family means to me."

"It's-It's not a joke," Toby stammers. "Jenna found out about us and-"

"There should have been nothing for Jenna to find out about," Daniel says coolly. "Why would you do this us? To me? After everything they've done?"

"But Spencer didn't do anything," Toby defends. "What's between you and Peter is between you and Peter, but Spencer… She had nothing to do with it. She's just a girl. And I love her."

"I can't believe you would do this," Daniel goes on. "Not after everything that we went through. Not after your mother. They are the reason that she is dead."

There it is again. Toby grows even angrier at the accusation. "No they _aren't_, Dad. You are."

Daniel's eyes snap to his son's and his glare is icy. "What are you talking about?"

"She was depressed, Dad," Toby says and his heart clenches painfully. "She was sick. And why do you think that is? Because of this; because of you. Mom couldn't hate _anyone_, but you asked her to. You made her. This whole damn feud between you and Peter was too much for her and she couldn't handle it; she couldn't escape. She was depressed, Dad, and she died because of it. Because of this whole _fucking_ grudge that should burn in hell along with all the stupid reasons you hate the Hastings'."

Daniel stares at him a long time before saying, "If you really think that, then you're as delusional as she was. I have nothing more to say to you."

He stands and leaves the room and only then can Toby let out the breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. It's over; it's _finally_ over. Everything's out in the open and if his father can't deal with that, then Toby knows where the front door is. He doesn't know where he'll go, but he'll think of something. It seems Melissa keeps her promise; Spencer doesn't call that evening, or the next morning, or the next. He doesn't worry _too_ much; she's likely been put on house arrest and he almost wishes he had been, too, because he'd much rather deal with his parents' anger than them completely ignoring his presence. Even Jenna treats him like he's invisible and he hadn't expected that; truly, he thought she'd love this, because it only made him more like dirt and her more like the perfect one their parents always treat her as. Needless to say, he's more than ready for school Monday morning; that is, until he actually gets there.

The halls of Rosewood High are silent and every single person's eyes are on him. No one talks to him, not even Emily or Caleb, for fear of where his head is, fear of the unknown. It's okay; he'll go back to being a loner. It's easier that way, anyway. He never sees Spencer and he worries the entire morning about it. All throughout English, history and chemistry, he wonders if she's alright, if they're treating her as badly, if her parents had come close to throwing her out as his had, and when he enters the cafeteria for lunch, he gets his answer. She's sitting at her regular table on the opposite side of the cafeteria, her eyes downcast, her hands in her lap. She isn't eating and he can't blame her; his appetite's completely gone, too. Toby's agitated and all he wants to do is talk to her, get a sense of where she's at, and they must be the same wavelength, because all of a sudden, she stands and the room falls silent.

You could hear a pin drop in the middle of this cafeteria. Toby rises, too, and Spencer begins to walk forward; before he can process what he's doing, Toby begins to follow her actions and the space between them grows smaller and smaller as they grow closer and closer. She picks up speed and he does, too; arms outstretched, he catches her as she throws herself into his arms, bringing her as close to his body as he can and inhaling the comforting scent of her he'd likened with being home. She's trembling, but her voice is steady as she whispers her love and he nods and returns the sentiment. They aren't going to kiss or break down in tears; that would only offer the entire school the spectacle they're expecting. But this, the physical reassurance, is enough. When they pull away, she smiles and it's the most at peace he's seen her in a while, possibly in forever. And he feels it, too.

_For never was a story of more woe  
Than this of Juliet and her Romeo_

Or, so Shakespeare had ended the play, but this is bullshit, really. If they had struggled, if they had fought, if they had communicated, they would've been saved. They could have lived and they could have loved; Toby and Spencer are living proof of that.

Their arms are still looped around one another and everyone's staring at them, but they don't care; they're grinning. They're in _love_. And they'll be all right.


	20. theres a better home awaiting in the sky

**Good morning friends! Alright, well... It's been real haha. Thanks for putting up with me and all my nonsensical scenarios. Honestly I'm not sure when I'll be back because I've had absolutely zero ideas lately, but I doubt this is the end of me. I'll be around. Thank you all for your continued support. Thank you for reading, thank you to those of you who took the time out of your busy lives to review, and thank you for not hating me when I tortured your favorite characters. Seriously, it means a lot.**

**The final chapter title comes from "Will the Circle Be Unbroken," but I imagine you knew that already. The AU we find ourselves in today is end of the world. Had to start with a bang, had to go out with a bang. ;) Thank you so much for reading and I hope you all enjoy the last chapter. My exit music, please!**

* * *

there's a better home awaiting in the sky

It doesn't happen immediately. It doesn't happen instantly. It happens in bits and pieces. It's made up of multiple parts.

They're on a date in early June when they first hear of it. Date nights are hard to come by, because rarely, if ever, do their schedules match up and allow for such a pleasure. Usually, she'll work long into the nights, come home, and find him fighting to stay awake just to get a glimpse of her, and when he awakens early in the morning for his job, she's still passed out, hours from seeing the sun with her own eyes. Since it's such a rare occurrence, they decide to go all out; dinner at the new restaurant on Broadway and tickets to see a show, a critically acclaimed one they hadn't seen yet. It's while they're seated at dinner, laughing over bowls of spaghetti, that they overhear the conversation. It's two men, poring over charts and unintentionally ignoring their meals, but one is frantic and the other is disbelieving.

"Franklin," The frantic one pushes. "It's right here. It's all right here."

"That's preposterous," The other, Franklin, decides. "How do I know there wasn't an error in the machinery? Or perhaps a user error? You easily could have thrown the numbers; I know you want Kellerman's position, Jennings, and I know you'll do anything to get it."

"But not this," Jennings shakes his head. "This is serious. This is life or death. This isn't something to mess around with."

"And yet, here you are."

"Will you just look?" Jennings tries, thrusting the chart at his colleague again. "Several buoys in the North Atlantic are showing a massive drop in the ocean temperatures. That's not normal, Franklin. I've concluded, along with the rest of my team, that the melting polar ice caps have begun to disrupt the North Atlantic current, and if that happens-"

"No," Franklin shakes his head. "No. The world didn't end on Y2K, it didn't end on 6/6/06, and it didn't end in 2012! It's not going to end now!"

"Maybe not end, sir," Jennings says. "But you do know that meteorological climate change is what caused the first Ice Age."

"Check," Franklin demands of the first waitress he sees. "We need the check."

Spencer and Toby watch in surprise. The men are still arguing as they pay, stand and exit the restaurant. For a moment, they're both speechless. Then, Spencer shakes her head and says, "Guess the world is ending again."

Toby wonders, "You don't believe him?"

"I don't know," Spencer shrugs. "I find it hard to believe, considering they've been preaching the end of the world for years and years and nothing's ever happened."

"But there's legitimate proof this time," Toby points out. "The polar ice caps, the climate change…"

"Yeah, and there was proof last time," Spencer says. "The greenhouse effect, even more climate change… It's probably all hot air."

He nods. "And if it's not?"

"I will be the first one to admit I was wrong," Spencer promises. "And you can totally play the 'I told you so' card."

Toby chuckles. "I don't know if I believe it, either. Meteorologists don't have the greatest track record."

"Exactly."

"But…" He trails off. "I don't know. If the world is going to end, there are things I'd like to do first."

Spencer asks curiously, "Like what?"

He shrugs. "Patch things up with my Dad. Maybe Jenna, too. Visit my Mom's grave one last time. Travel abroad. Do all the touristy things in New York that we haven't taken advantage of since we moved here; you know, the Empire State Building, Central Park, the Statue of Liberty… That kind of stuff."

"Toby," She grins. "It sounds like you're making a bucket list."

"Yeah, I guess it kind of is," Toby nods his agreement as they too prepare to leave the restaurant. "What would you want to do?"

"I don't know," She thinks a moment as they head towards the theater, hand in hand. "I've never really though about it. I guess… Reach out to my sister. Go to France. Tell Aria how we all _really_ feel about Ezra."

Toby snorts. "I still can't believe she married him."

"None of us can," Spencer shakes her head. "She could do _so_ much better."

"That's it, though?" He asks. "That's a pretty short list."

"I guess it's because I'm happy," Spencer admits. "For the first time in my life… I have everything I need. I'm not running and fighting for my life anymore. I have a job I love, I still keep in touch with the girls, I have you… It's all I need."

He smiles. "Keeping it simple?"

"Exactly," She beams back. "Keep it simple. The world can end, now. I'm happy."

"Okay, don't encourage it," Toby teases as they reach their show and head inside. "We don't actively _want_ the world to end."

"No," Spencer agrees. "It's probably all speculation, anyway. Isn't it always?"

Famous last words.

* * *

Within a week, violent weather worldwide begins to terrorize the human population. It starts off with a ferocious blizzard in the middle of central Florida, bathing its residents in a thick layer of fluffy white snow and harsh ice that most Floridians had likely never seen before. A category four hurricane hits Kansas a day later, ripping off roofs, destroying homes, cutting off roads and yanking trees straight out of the ground. A devastating, catastrophic tornado hits Washington state a couple days later, killing many and ruining everything in its path, from homes to schools, from animals to vegetation. Toby and Spencer watch this unfold like a horror movie on the news and decide that this time, it's real; they better get going on that bucket list. They book a flight to Paris, pack their belongings and head to the airport, but it's a madhouse; it's chaos. Everyone is trying to leave the country and when they fight their way to the front of the angry mob, they learn that no one will be traveling anywhere.

"… due to the severe turbulence," A flight representative drones. "We will be offering full refunds for everyone at the customer service desks around the airport."

"My flight's for business! Are you going to talk to my boss?"

"My wife's in labor! I need to get home!"

"How dare you! This is illegal! This is outrageous!"

"What is going on?" Spencer asks and Toby shakes his head. He's as out of the loop as she is.

"By order of the president of the United States," The flight representative repeats. "The FAA has suspended all air traffic until further notice due to severe turbulence. We're sorry for the inconvenience and we thank you for your cooperation. There is nothing more we can do for you at this time."

Spencer nods slowly. "I guess we're not going to France."

"This is serious," Toby states. "I didn't think it was going to go this far."

"Should we get a refund?" Spencer asks. "Go somewhere else? Locally, I mean. They suspended air traffic, but they didn't say anything about trains or buses or anything."

"Yeah," Toby agrees. "We could go to Boston or Philly. We could go home for a little while."

Spencer nods. "We could. We could visit our parents' and your Mom and-"

She's cut off, distracted, by the news on the television above them. A giant, tsunami-like super storm is hovering over the Atlantic Ocean and moving quickly inward, straight for the northeastern part of the United States. Spencer's eyes widen and she says, "Oh my god. Look at that."

"I think we should stay here," Toby decides a moment later. "That doesn't look like something we should mess with."

They watch the news a bit longer, paralyzed in place, and minutes later, the reporting meteorologist in the helicopter begins to panic. In horror, Spencer and Toby watch as the helicopter he's riding in stalls, freezes and plummets to the ground. There's static on the screen as they hastily try to cover up what's just been shown, but it's too late, now. Spencer's shaking her head, averting her eyes and Toby's as pale as snow. "Oh my god."

"That's why they suspended flights," Spencer mutters, her voice low. "Planes are… are falling out of the sky."

"It just froze," Toby shakes his head. "It just froze and stopped working and-"

"Let's go home," Spencer says. "Let's go home because I think this is real and I don't think we're ready."

On the cab ride back to their apartment, Toby glances over at Spencer and notes her eyes are closed and her head is bowed. He places a gentle hand on her knee and asks, "Are you okay?"

"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can," Spencer whispers. "And the wisdom to know the difference."

Toby smiles softly and squeezes her knee. And so it begins.

* * *

The first week of July, Emily, Hanna and Aria arrive for what might be their very last girls' weekend in the city. Caleb comes too, if only to spend time with Toby while their girlfriends are off spending time away. It's been raining in New York for two weeks straight and sometimes it gets lighter, sometimes it gets heavier, but it never lets up. At first, they don't seem concerned; they trudge through the puddles as they stroll down the streets of New York, ignoring the warnings that this is really the beginning of a massive, hurricane-like super storm and any second now it was going to take them down. Instead, they visit the Museum of Natural History and have lunch at a café before taking brief refuge inside a department store at the end of the street. It's Hanna's heaven and she's like a child again as the other three just follow like puppies, and she's comparing two different leather jackets when the lights go out.

Thunder is crashing in the skies outside and the rain is unbelievably hard against the windows and ceiling and people are beginning to panic. Aria asks, "It's a department store! Don't they have a backup generator?"

"You would think," Spencer says, illuminating the flashlight on her phone. "Let's try to get out of here. Head home."

"Okay, but don't let me forget that I want this one," Hanna says, lifting the more expensive of the two jackets. "It's absolutely gorgeous."

"Only you, Hanna," Emily teases as they make it to the front of the store.

It's clear they won't be exiting. The winds are so high, they're tearing cars straight off the road. They shriek and duck away as the wind sends a taxi careening through one of the display windows. It's pouring so hard, it's making dents and cracks in the pavement outside and lightning strikes the street signs, the lamp posts and the poor people just frenetically trying to escape the weather's wrath. The thunder is absolutely deafening and it shakes the ground and there are stop signs and birch trees flying through the air outside. It's absolutely horrifying and there's no way they'll be exiting; screams of fright and screams of pain warn them not to move a muscle. Hanna yanks out her phone a moment later, as they're scrambling backwards to get away from the carnage.

"I'm calling Caleb," She announces and her phone beeps its denial. "Oh my god, I don't have a signal!"

"Shit, neither do I," Aria agrees, holding it as high as she can reach.

Spencer's phone is pressed to her ear and she's silently begging Toby to pick up. _Come on. Answer. Please. Tell me you're all right_. "I've got nothing."

"Oh my god!" Emily shouts and across the street, a hotel has crumbled to the ground, the entire building collapsed. "What is going on?"

Spencer sighs. "Jennings was right."

The other three stare at her in confusion. "What?"

"He's a scientist; he predicted the end of the world," Spencer explains hastily. "And he was right."

"No, no, no, the world can't end," Hanna disagrees. "There's so much I haven't done yet!"

"The world waits for no one, Hanna," Aria says sadly. "I can't believe I came down here without Ezra. What do you think Rosewood is like, right now?"

"It's probably in ruins," Emily shrugs. "I seriously cannot believe this is happening."

Spencer tries and fails one more time to get ahold of Toby and, when her phone does nothing but stare blankly back at her, she chucks it across the room. "There's no electricity. There's no cell service. We have nothing."

The storm continues to rage outside and Hanna asks, "What do we do now?"

"We're spending the night in the department store," Spencer sighs. "And we'll go from there, if we make it through the night."

* * *

Spencer awakens to a kind of cold she's never felt in her life. The night before, they'd gone upstairs, to the home goods section of the store, and found beds to sleep in for the night, huddling together for comfort and for warmth. There aren't enough blankets in the world to keep her warm, now. Spencer sits, shivers violently and checks her watch. It's a little after eight a.m. and there's silence in the department store, a sure sign that she and her three best friends are alone. Glancing beside her, she notes Aria's still fast asleep; her lips are blue and there are icicles on her eyelashes. Spencer imagines she must look identical to her petite friend's frozen form. She reaches down, lays a hand on the crispy, cool sheets, and shakes her friend awake.

"Aria," She hisses softly. "Aria!"

Aria jumps awake as if she's been shocked and sits, shaking. "What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Spencer insists, her teeth chattering. "I had to make sure you didn't freeze to death."

"Give me twenty minutes," Aria says. "Why is it so cold?"

"I don't know," Spencer shakes her head and, across the aisle, notes that Hanna and Emily are unmoving. "Hand me your pillow."

Aria does as she's asked and Spencer tosses it away from her. It sails through the air and beans Emily right in the face. She startles, shoves the pillow aside, and her fidgeting awakens Hanna as well. "What's going on? What time is it?"

"Why is it like fucking Antarctica in here?" Hanna wonders, rubbing her arms viciously. "It's _so_ cold!"

Spencer climbs out of bed, heading for the escalator that hasn't worked for hours now, the others following suit. When they make it downstairs, their eyes widen. All the rain that had fallen had completely frozen over and the thermostat is broken; if she had to guess, Spencer would say the temperature is easily in the double negatives. She takes a moment, glances at the frozen wonderland outside and snaps into action. "We're going to freeze to death if we don't get warmer clothing."

Emily's as pale as ice. "Yeah. Like them?"

The others turn in her direction and are instantly startled. There's a huddle of people in the middle of the shoe section, limbs frozen together, death in their open eyes. Aria grimaces and says, "I wondered where all the people were. We weren't here alone."

"Oh my god," Hanna panics. "We need to get out of here. We need to go."

"Clothes first," Spencer warns. "Then we'll go."

"Back to your place?" Emily asks as they begin to raid the store for coats, hats, boots and gloves.

"Sure," Spencer says quietly. "If it's still standing."

"It's got to be," Hanna insists. "Caleb's there. Toby, too. And they're okay."

"Yeah," Spencer nods uneasily. "Yeah, they're fine."

* * *

The snow is eight to ten feet deep and covered in a thick layer of ice; needless to say, walking across it is like trekking through a minefield. One false move and it's all over. They move slowly and carefully down the abandoned streets of New York City, tugging scarves up to their eyes and trying to do anything they could to ignore the bitter cold. Spencer's doing her best to focus on the task at hand, but her hair is crispy and could easily break off and her skin feels like it's on fire, icy and raw, and all she can think about is Toby, because if the world is going to end, if today is her last day, then she wants to be with him. It takes them all day just to travel three blocks and the sky grows dark and the wind picks up, signaling it's time to call it a night. They've reached the front steps of the New York Public Library and have decided to take refuge in it for the night; they've got nowhere else to go.

The door splinters open and icicles fall downward, smashing themselves against the stone. Spencer's wearing two sweaters and a thick jacket and she can't stop shivering. Emily asks, "I wonder if there's any food in here."

"In the library?" Aria asks incredulously, pointing to a sign above her. "Where it says no food or drink?"

"Rules were made to be broken, Aria," Emily rolls her eyes. "There's got to be _something_."

"Maybe upstairs," Hanna suggests and Emily nods.

"I'm going to go check it out," She calls back as she heads for the grand staircase.

Aria scrambles up to follow her. "Wait for me! You don't get to put yourself in danger alone."

This leaves Hanna and Spencer and neither has to ask to know how the other is feeling. Hanna implores, "You think they're okay, right?"

"I don't know," Spencer shakes her head. "You saw how that building just collapsed… I mean, Caleb and Toby are tough but… You can't survive that."

"But what if your building didn't collapse?" Hanna suggests. "What if the building's fine and… they just froze to death?"

Spencer squeezes her eyes shut as unwanted images flood her brain. "Hanna…"

"I'm sorry," Hanna says. "It's the last thing I want, believe me. But… I have to think about these things. I have to because… Because I need an explanation. I'm scared, Spence. I'm really scared."

Spencer frowns and admits quietly, "Me too."

There's a banging sound outside that startles both of them and grabs their attention. They're staring in the direction of the front door of the library just as Aria and Emily come back downstairs. "There's no food. There's nothing up there."

"Seriously. Not even a vending machine in this…" Emily trails off just as she notices the other two staring. "What's wrong?"

A second bang sounds and the girls scramble to their feet as the front door splinters open. Spencer's heart is in her throat as two snowy, frost-ridden figures appear and struggle to shut the door behind them. It isn't until they're all standing there, in the middle of the floor, that Spencer recognizes the coat on the right. "Oh my god. Oh my _god_."

He begins to strip off his many layers but Spencer cannot contain herself. She attaches herself to him immediately and he chuckles a little, rubbing her back, as Hanna does the same to the man on the left. "Hi, Spence."

"Where the hell did you come from?" She asks, her arms still fully around him. "How did you know we were here?"

"It's the New York Public Library, Spencer," Toby says, kissing her cheek. "Where else would you take refuge?"

Spencer can only stare at him in disbelief because even now, it shocks her how well he knows her. She brings his lips to hers a moment later and he kisses her back in earnest. In between kisses, she vows, "I love you. You scared the hell out of me. And you're never leaving me again."

"You left me," Toby corrects her and when she shoots him a look, he says, "I love you, too. And I won't leave your side again for the rest of our lives."

"The rest of our days," Emily sighs. "However many we have left."

Aria agrees, "It's probably not very many."

Spencer doesn't care. She's still trembling, but she has Toby again, and her life could go on for years and years or it could end tomorrow, and she would be perfectly okay with that.

* * *

The night grows colder and colder as it wanes on and Toby's watching Spencer shiver violently and it physically aches that he can't do anything about it. They're sitting in a semi-circle with the rest of their friends and Aria and Hanna have already fallen asleep and Spencer has yet to let go of his hand. He hardly minds. Every now and then, Emily, paranoid and frantic, makes sure Aria and Hanna are still breathing, that they haven't frozen to death, and Caleb, through blue lips, tells her they're fine. It's killing him to watch his friends and girlfriend suffer like this, but he doesn't know what to do to provide warmth. At least, not at first. And then, when it hits him, he feels stupid for not thinking of it sooner.

"The books," Toby says after a beat. "We have to burn the books."

"Are you kidding?" Spencer asks. "We can't do that. Destroying public property-"

"Spencer, there is no public anymore," Toby says. "Everyone's gone."

"Okay, but…" She trails off, searching for another excuse. "They're classics."

"They're not; not all of them," He tells her. "We don't have a choice. It's getting colder by the second. We'll die if we don't."

Spencer bites her lip and hesitantly agrees. "Oh alright."

They and Emily grab a cart and stack it high with the thickest books they can find. They arrange them in the perfect formation and Caleb finds a match in an abandoned purse in one of the aisles. Soon, they have a roaring, raging fire and there's no ventilation in the building and this probably violates about a hundred codes, but they are truly out of options, here. Soon, Caleb and Emily have joined Hanna and Aria in a restless sleep and it's just Spencer and Toby, now, watching the flames dip and wave languorously. She's draped across his lap and just when he thinks she's fallen asleep, she says, "I prayed. I prayed every second that you'd come back to me."

Toby smiles. "That's funny. Because I prayed every second that I'd find you again."

She then asks, "What do you think ever happened to Jennings?"

"Well," Toby sighs. "I think he'd make millions off of this. But he's probably frozen, somewhere, holed up, just like we are."

"If we believed him," She considers. "If we all believed him and took precaution, do you think we would've made it?"

"Hey," He scolds lightly. "Who says we're not making it?"

"I'm just asking," Spencer shrugs. "Do you think so?"

"I don't know," Toby replies. "I don't think any amount of preparation can save you from nature. You can't control it. You can't mess with it."

"I think you're right," Spencer agrees. "We only have the power to change the things we've created, not anything else. And sometimes, not even then."

"Yeah," Toby says. "Sometimes not even then."

"Do you think it's going to hurt?" She then asks. "The end?"

"I don't know, Spence," He repeats. "Maybe."

Spencer snuggles closer, requesting, "Don't leave me, okay?"

Toby holds her tighter, still, promising, "Never."

* * *

They're sweating bullets when they awaken and the fire's burned out and their sweaters aren't necessary anymore. It isn't fifty degrees below zero and the ice and snow have melted into rivers outside and the sun is shining so hot and so bright, it looks like any other day. They're starving, they're _ravenous_, and so they step outside, in search of something to eat. It's absolutely stifling outside; they're unable to breathe, gasping for breath, and there's a sickening feeling in Spencer's stomach that tells her the end is near. This is it. It seems as though the sun is going to fall out of the sky, as though it's going to come careening down towards them, through their atmosphere and burst into flames on impact. They're trudging through the water, watching as it begins to dry almost instantly, when Aria points it out.

There, in the sky above, is a small, dark spot and it's growing bigger and bigger and coming rapidly towards them. She asks, "What is that?"

"I don't know," Emily shakes her head, squinting into the sunlight. "It looks like-"

"An asteroid," Spencer says. "It looks like a giant asteroid."

"Oh my god," Hanna panics immediately. "This is the end!"

"Yeah," Caleb agrees, slipping an arm around her. "I think so."

"Oh my god," Spencer gasps, turning to Toby. "Oh my god."

"It's okay," Toby assures her, taking her hand in his. "We knew this all along."

"But I…" She starts but can't seem to get the words out. "I…"

"I know," He understands, nodding. "I know."

The others are freaking out, losing their shit, crying. Aria is on the ground, Emily is racing about, Caleb and Hanna are kissing. But suddenly, a strange calm washes over Spencer and she realizes if the world is going to end, if they're all going to die, then it might as well be like this. Together. She smiles at Toby and he smiles back. Inhaling what would likely be her last breath, Spencer says, "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change…"

"The courage to change the things I can," Toby fills in.

Spencer concludes, "And the wisdom to know the difference."

Toby squeezes her hand. Nothing more is said.

There's an Earth-shattering crash, resounding shockwaves and a brilliant bright light.

And so it ends.


End file.
